


The Brotherhood and their Lady

by Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, The Brotherhood Without Banners (ASoIaF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 48,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25308673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya/pseuds/Wyneb_Ceffyl_Arya
Summary: Arya and Gendry have cultivated their friendship on the road with the Brotherhood following her fathers death at the hands of the Lannisters. But where will they go next?
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 257
Kudos: 407





	1. Chapter 1

The room was dark and there was little noise to be heard, only the soft breathing coming from Gendry in the bed next to her. Only, the breathing did not sound as it usually did when he slept. She squeezed her eyes back closed, trying to ignore it, trying to drift back to sleep.  _ He’s awake,  _ her brain told her _.  _ Arya sighed, turning over to face him. She heard him gasp in the darkness.

“Arya, why are you awake?” he asked quietly.

“Can’t sleep,” she responded, reaching out for her best friend. 

“Uh,” he hesitated, pulling away from her, “I um.. I gotta.. I..” he stammered, getting out of bed.

“Gendry.” she said defiantly. 

“I can’t,” he murmurs. 

“Gendry,” she reaches out to grasp him.

“What?” he muttered.

“You’re being weird.” she grasps his chin, yanking it down to face her, it was still dark but she could make out his shape. 

She heard him swallow. 

“Come back to bed.” she ordered him.

“We shouldn’t even be sharing a bed no more Arry.” he answers, she can feel his face flush under her hand.

“Where else am I gonna sleep?” she asks, shoving at his shoulder.

“Well, I could sleep on the floor.” he answers.

“Gendry, you sound as bad as the lot of them.” she pouts, “Get back in bed,  _ now. _ ”

She can almost hear his internal debate as he stands still for a few moments, “Yes, Milady.” he answers at last, she releases the hold on his chin allowing him to climb back into the bed.

“How long are we here this time?” Arya asks as they dismount their horses at the Inn at the Crossroads.

“ _You_ will be staying a few weeks.” Lord Beric answers.

“Oh, will _I_ now?” she asks, crossing her arms across her chest, “ _ And  _ where are  _ you  _ lot off to?”

“Now that don’t concern you Milady,” Lem says, ruffling her hair.

“Fuck off Lem!” she responds by shoving the man away from her.

“Beric?” Arya demands.

“We’ll talk later, My Lady.” Beric answers softly. 

“I’m not a Lady.” she mutters as he walks off.

“You don’t act much like one,” Anguy walks up to her, Gendry on his heels, “but you sure as hell do look like one.”

Arya noted Gendry balling his fists up, she ended up chewing on her lower lip. 

“C’mon Bull, tell us, what’s the little wolf hiding under those breeches?” Anguy teases, throwing an arm around Gendry.

Gendry blushes, and Arya sees red, as though she were the bull, she charges at Anguy, shoving him in the chest, “Talk about me like that again, and I’ll kick your balls.”

“Got it.” Anguy says, staggering away to leave them alone.

“Arya, I-” Gendry blushes even deeper than he’d already blushed. 

She shakes her head to tell him she doesn’t need an explanation.

“Gendry!” Jeyne beams as the two of them walk into the inn, pointedly ignoring Arya.

“Hi Jeyne,” he responds nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Arya rolls her eyes and heads off towards the kitchen.

“Hot Pie!” she yells as she walks into the kitchen.

“Arry!” Hot Pie drops the carrot he’s peeling back onto the work surface, rushing to pick her up. Her feet dangle just off the floor before Hot Pie sets her back down, clearly exhausted from the excitement and physical exertion. 

“How long you er’ for?” Hot Pie asks, handing her a biscuit as she sits down on the counter top.

Arya shrugs, peering over her shoulder as Gendry enters the kitchen, quickly giving Hot Pie a hug before moving to stand beside her.

“Who knows, they treat me like I’m a child.” she rolls her eyes.

“Cause you are.” Hot Pie answers.

Arya and Gendry both snort.

“What?” she asks, her head snapping to face Gendry.

“I.. uh.. Just sticking up for you.” he responds. 

She narrows her eyes at him before turning back to Hot Pie, “I’m a woman grown, I’m nearly six and ten!” she argues. 

The next morning Beric approaches her as she’s breaking her fast with Gendry. 

“The two of you are staying here,” Beric says sitting down opposite them.

“Why?” she asks.

“Do you ever not argue?” Beric asks her.

“No.” she leans her elbows on to the table. 

“Look, Arya,” Beric says in a gentle tone, “we’re meeting with some people.. And we’d rather them not know about you, either of you.”

“Me?” Gendry asks.

“Yes, you.” he responds, “Now, if I leave the two of you here alone, are you going to act like adults?”

“What do you think we’re going to do?” she frowns.

“Do you actually want me to answer that?” Beric asks.

“Yes.” she frowns.

“Arya,” Beric sighs, “look, you are an amazing warrior, you can be tactful, you can hunt, frankly, you can do anything you put your mind to.  _ But,  _ you have no filter, you lack self control, it’s not always a bad thing, you’re passionate. But look, I want you to stay here, Gendry will work the forge for a few weeks, you can hunt and teach the children your water dance, help Jeyne, Willow and Hot Pie, okay?”

“Fine.” she answers.

“Are you really going to behave whilst they’re away?” Gendry asks that night when they’re alone in their room.

“What do you think?” she asks, with a grin.

“Arya,” he groans.

“What?” she laughs, reaching out to pull him towards the bed.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” he smiles at her.

She watches him, they’re on the bed facing each other, she meets his eyes and grins back, “Not today.”

“C’mon, go to sleep.” he says reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. 

She pokes her tongue out at him, but slips her way under the blankets on their bed.

She wakes in the night once more, she tries to clear her mind, willing herself to fall back asleep.

“Arya,” she hears Gendry murmur. 

She turns to face him, he’s clearly asleep still.

“Arya,” he murmurs again, she sits up causing the blankets to shift, she notices something is causing the blanket to stick up around Gendry’s waist. She reaches out to smooth the blanket flat, a movement that causes Gendry’s eyes to fly open.

“Arya!” he gasps and she yanks her hand back quickly.

“What are you doing?” he asks her.

“The blanket was stuck up.” she replies.

“Uh.. I should sleep on the floor from now on.” he responds.

“No, wait!” she says reaching out, grasping his hand.

“Arya,” his voice is low, he sounds angered.

“Gendry, please?” she pleads. 

He looks at her, giving her permission to talk.

She bites down on her lower lip, her eyes dropping to his crotch before travelling back up to his face. The room is dark, and it’s hard to make out much, but she’s used to the dark, she could still see the shape at his crotch.

He starts to move.

“You said my name.” she says softly.

“What?” he asks.

“You were asleep,” she shifts closer to him, “you said my name,  _ twice. _ ”

“Arya..” he groans.

“I’m not entirely stupid.” she replies, grasping his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” he asks, breathlessly. 

“Shh,” she says softly, leaning in towards him, she’s never done this before, and it’s made harder by the darkness. But she moves one hand to cup his cheek, feeling the stubble growing beneath her hand, the edge of her thumb runs lightly against his lips. She’s emboldened by her ability to locate his lips, so leans further in towards him, pressing her lips to his. At first Gendry sits frozen, but as she begins to withdraw, his hands shoot up, one resting on the back of her neck pulling her towards him, the other is on her hip. His lips move against hers, she sighs against his mouth and as her lips part Gendry’s tongue makes its way into her mouth. At first she is surprised, but seconds later she finds her own tongue responding in kind.

She doesn’t know how much time passes, but eventually the two of them stop and fall back under the blankets. She falls back to sleep with her back pressed against Gendry’s chest and his arms wrapped around her.

“Hey, are you awake?” Gendry whispers in her ear.

“Yeah,” she replies, turning over to face him.

“Last night..” he pauses.

A grin breaks out on her face.

“It wasn’t a dream?” he asks.

“No, stupid.” she laughs gently, leaning in to kiss him.

The kisses the night before had been long and desperate, almost as though all the pent up emotions were needing to escape at once, but the kisses they shared now were slow and soft.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he smiles against her neck.

“I don’t?” she chuckles, trailing kisses across his jaw, “Why did you wait?”

“Arya,” he sighs, sitting up, she follows suit, determined not to allow him to get out of this conversation. She kneels beside him on the bed, then bites down on her lip before moving to place each of her knees either side of his thighs.

“Arya,” he frowns.

She shakes her head, “No Gendry, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” he asks.

She kisses him, then places both hands on his cheeks, making him maintain eye contact with her, “Gendry, I love you, and I don’t want any of your bullshit about how you’re a bastard and I’m a Lady. I’m no different from you, c’mon, we’ve been sharing a bed for years, no one's likely to take me for a Lady.”

“But you are,” he responds, struggling against her hands.

Arya glares at him.

“Wait..” he frowns.

She cocks her head to the side, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“You.. you love me?” he asks.

“I’m not too keen on you right this second, but in general, yeah, I love you.” she answers.

“Just to be clear.. You love me like.. Not like a brother?” he asks.

“Gendry,” she shifts her hips, feeling his hardness beneath her, “ _ not  _ like a brother.”

He nods, processing the information, then suddenly he flips them over so she’s on her back, her sleeping gown is riding up her thighs, but she no longer cares. Gendry’s vivid blue eyes look longingly into her own grey ones.

“I love you too,” he says softly covering her mouth with his.


	2. Chapter 2

“You think they’ll take us with them this time?” Arya asked as she and Gendry sat at a table breaking their fast one morning, Arya had just read out the letter saying the brotherhood would return in the coming days.

“Said they would.” he shrugged. 

“Their words mean shit.” Arya scowled.

“Don’t scowl,” Gendry laughed, gently capturing her jaw in one of his oversized hands. 

She forced her face into a smile, made difficult by Gendry’s hold on her face.

“Better,” he said softly, leaning towards her.

“Jeyne’s staring.” she mutters.

“So?” he frowns.

“She  _ likes  _ you Gendry.” Arya pushes him backwards.

“I’ve made myself clear to her Arya.” he says softly.

“She always looks at me like she’s ready to murder me.” she replies.

“Now c’mon Arry,” he says, reaching for her hand below the table, “I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Fuck you!” she laughs before rising from the table, “I’m going hunting, I’ll be back by sundown, Mathis, Damon grab your gear, I’ll meet you by the door in 5 minutes.”

“Yes, Arya!” both boys answer, before scattering to gather the hunting packs she’d helped them put together.

Arya made her way back up to her and Gendry’s room to gather her own pack and bow and arrows, Needle was secured at her hip as usual. Although, she had been considering asking Gendry to forge her a new sword. One similar to Needle, only maybe a little bigger, she hadn’t grown all that much in the 7 years since Jon Snow gifted her the sword, but she had gained a lot of muscle and skill in that time. 

“Be careful out there,” Gendry says, lacing his arms around her waist.

“Be careful?” she snorts.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, shut up stupid.” he responds.

“I need to finish training them so they’re ready to hunt without me once we’re gone again.” she explains.

“I know Arry.” he says softly, turning her in his arms before pressing a slow, building kiss to her lips.

“As much as I’d love to stay here, doing this, I’ve gotta go.” she says pulling away.

“Hold on,” he says, scooping her up for one final kiss, “quick, leave, before I cease you once more!”

“You’re insatiable Gendry!” she chuckles, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Love you,” he says softly as she reaches the door of their room.

She pauses, looking over her shoulder at him. His black hair is a mess and is in need of a trim, but his blue eyes shine with a look he reserves for only her, “I love you too.”

“You said 5 minutes!” Mathis grumbled as they headed out of the inn.

“Yeah, well I was busy.” she answered, striding past both boys.

“You’re always complaining about us being late.” Damon pointed out.

“Yeah, well  _ I’m  _ the boss here, not you two.” she responded. Although, it was a bit odd, the boys were 12 and 13, both at least a height with her. 

“I’m probably leaving soon,” she explained to the boys as they walked, “we’ll stop in a bit, and I want you both to demonstrate to me the skills you’ve learned, I want to make sure you can take care of yourselves once we’re gone.”

“Arya,” Damon spoke up a few minutes later, “why do you even give a shit? Like, ain’t you high born or whatever?” 

“Doesn’t matter does it?” she responds.

“What don’t matter?” Mathis asks.

“Whether I’m high born.” she replies.

“Well no,” Damon scratches at his head, “it’s just, most people don’t care ‘bout us, why are you different?”

“The Brotherhood cares.” she replies simply, “I’m a part of the Brotherhood.”

The boys dropped the subject until they were walking back to the inn that night, a deer attached to a device to carry it back that they’d strung together, Arya was carrying sacks of fruit and had some rabbits, squirrels and birds strung from some rope over her shoulder. Their trip had been a success.

“Where are you guys goin’ this time?” Mathis asks as they walk.

“Who knows, they don’t tell me anything.” she answers.

“Really?” Mathis asks, wide eyed.

“Yeah, I mean, why would they?” she laughs.

“They all follow you, even Lord Beric. If you say somethin’ they listen to you!” Damon answers. 

Arya screws her face up in response, “I disagree.”

As the inn came into view Arya let out a howl to warn the orphans of their approach. Minutes later several children were running up to them, on the sight of their haul the orphans were whooping and cheering.

“Merry!” Arya called to a girl of ten, “Run ahead, tell Hot Pie, Jeyne and Willow that we’re returning, they’ll want to issue instructions on all this.”

The girl smiled and nodded before turning to run back to the inn.

“Can I carry somethin’?” Morya asks, bouncing around her.

“Sure, take this.” she said to the small girl, handing her a sack of fruit. 

Before long she was left with nothing to carry as each of the orphans asked to take something.

“Mathis, Damon, you go talk to Jeyne, Willow and Hot Pie, remember, this is all yours now.” she orders as they reach the inn.

“You think we can do it?” Damon asks.

“Yes,” she nods, before her eyes travelled towards the smithy, she could hear Gendry working away, “I mean, obviously not as good as me, but I think the two of you will do well enough. And you can train some of the others.”

Once the orphans were all heading over to Jeyne, Willow and Hot Pie she turned to head to the forge.

She slipped into the little out building silently, leaning against a wall she watched Gendry hammering.

She stood for a few minutes watching him absorbed by his work, and not for the first time she thought,  _ he’s strong.  _ Although, she knew that now, not only was he strong, he was gentle and controlled. 

He placed his tools down on the work surface, rubbing his forehead with the back of his arm before turning around. He wore his usual breeches, but was shirtless, his muscled chest was dirty and damp with sweat. Arya bit down on her lower lip and her eyes took in the sight before her.

“How long you been there?” he smiled, looking her over.

“Not long.” she grinned. 

He let out a soft laugh before surging forward to take her in his arms.

“Missed me or what?” she asked against his neck.

“Always.” he answered, lowering her to sit on his work bench, his lips eagerly finding hers before tracking their way down her neck, stopping at the juncture of her collar bone. She tilted his face back upwards, taking her lips with hers once more, softly suckling his lower lip before reaching out to guide his hand to her breast.

“Arya,” he sighed.

“What?” she grinned mischievously. 

“You’re gonna get me killed.” he groaned.

“Who’s here to kill you?” she cocked her head, “Besides me?”

“C’mon, we better head in.” Gendry says eventually, pulling her from her position on his work bench. 

“Ever think about just running away?” she asks quietly. 

“Every time I’m alone with you.” he grins before quickly pecking her then rubbing a damp cloth over his face.

Arya turns to leave the forge, “Might wanna wipe your face down.” he laughs.

“Twat.” she mutters, tilting her face towards him, to allow him to clean her face for her.

“Shit, you got a good haul!” Gendry says as they walk into the inn’s kitchen where the food is being prepared for storage.

“Sure did.” she smiles.

“You were out there forever an’ didn’t discuss what you got.” Hot Pie frowns at them.

Both of them casually shrug, but she hears Jeyne sighing.

“Anyway, Jeyne,” Arya says, “Mathis and Damon, they can handle the hunting. I put them through some tests today, they’re great.”

“Good.” Jeyne responds coldly. 

“So, are you guys leaving soon?” Willow asks, trying to thaw the room out.

“Beric said we were, but who could say.” Arya shrugs. 

“We’ll see.” Gendry nods. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Where are we going?” Arya asks as they had been riding with the Brotherhood for hours.

“Around.” Tom answers.

“Around in circles?” Arya raises her eyebrows.

“She’s a perceptive one!” Tom laughs.

“How did you know?” Beric asks, allowing his horse to fall back beside her own.

“We turned back on ourselves about 2 hours ago,” she said peering up towards the sky, “the sun is in a different direction.”

Beric smiles in response.

“Why?” she asks.

“No reason, we were just testing you.” Beric replies, nudging his horse forwards.

“Twats,” she mutters as she’s left back beside Gendry.

“No!” Arya says suddenly, realising where they were headed. They only had about 40 minutes of daylight left and it had just dawned on her where they would be shortly arriving. 

“What?” Gendry asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

She shook her head in anger, galloping her horse up to Beric who was at the front of their party.

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?” Beric smiles kindly at her.

“I know where we’re going.” she says. 

“Arya,” he sighs, “I know you don’t like it-” 

“It’s not that I  _ don’t like it _ ,” she scoffs, “she said I smelt like death.”

“You smell pretty sweet right now, Milady.” Jack-Be-Lucky winked at her.

Arya rolled her eyes at the one eyed man and turned back to Beric.

“We  _ all  _ smell of death Arya, we’re outlaws.” Beric reasoned. 

“Thought you weren’t afraid of no ghosts, Skinny Squirrel!” Anguy laughs.

She scowled at him before kicking her heels into her horse to gallop ahead of the men. 

“What’s wrong with her?” she hears Gendry ask behind her.

The men laugh in response.

“Gendry,” Tom says slowly, “now aren’t  _ you  _ meant to know  _ that _ ?”

“What?” Gendry asks.

“Heard the two of you were getting pretty close while we was away.” Tom laughs. 

“I- we-” Gendry stutters.

Arya huffs a sigh rolling her eyes, even though none of them can see her as she is ahead of them, she peers back over her shoulder to see Gendry blushing on his horse sandwiched between Lem and Tom.

“Leave him be.” Arya practically growls at them.

“Best get back to your lady love, lad.” Lem laughs, making Gendry blush even more. 

Arya notices Beric exchange a look with Harwin before both of their eyes drift first to Gendry, then to her.

Thankfully they are on their way the next morning, and Arya hears no hint of Jenny of Oldstones whilst they are at High Heart. 

“Where are we headed?” Arya asks as they mount up.

“This way,” Tom replies, putting his heels to his horse.

“Would it kill them to tell us something from time to time.” Arya groans to Gendry, before they follow after the men.

Around half an hour later, she tries again, “Where are we going?”

“Which way do you think we’re headed?” Beric asks her.

“South.” she answers immediately, she’d already taken a look around noticing the position of the sun creeping across the sky.

“So where could we be headed?” Beric asks.

“Is this a game?” Gendry asks her quietly. 

“My life is a game.” she responds to him, before turning back to Beric, “Acorn Hall? That’s the next place we usually stop.”

Beric nods in response.

“I’m not wearing a dress!” Arya scowls.   


“C’mon, when was the last time Ravella stuffed you in a frock?” Anguy laughs at her face.

“Yeah, well I’m just saying, don’t any of you go getting any of those fanciful notions in your head.” she growls in response. 

“I think we’d all pay to see you in a dress once more, Milady.” Tom grins at her.

“You’ll pay with your heads first.” she mutters. 

“Bet she even sleeps in breeches.” Jack laughs. 

“Shut up.” Gendry responds, she could see the tension building in his shoulders.

The men share a look, laughing and shaking their heads as they rode on.

They arrive at Acorn Hall in the early afternoon, Lady Ravella Smallwood is standing in the courtyard waiting on them.

“I could hear you several leagues away Tom!” Ravella shakes her head as they begin to dismount their horses in the courtyard. 

“Well I like to warn people to prepare for me,” Tom winks at the dark haired woman.

“It is nice to see you boys again,” she says looking at them each in turn, before landing on Arya finally, “and you again My Lady.”

“Arya,” she responds. 

“Arya?” Lady Smallwood says her name slowly, she hadn’t told the woman her name before, despite having been to Acorn Hall numerous times before.

Arya bit down on her lower lip and nodded her head.

“How old are you now, child?” the woman asked her.

“One and six, My Lady.” she replied.

“Come, let’s get you all inside.” she smiled in response, ushering the Brotherhood into her home. 

“They’re gonna split us up tonight Arry.” Gendry says quietly to her as they sit in Acorn Halls grand hall. 

She shrugs, “I’ll find you.”

“What if I’m sharing with one of the others?” he asks.

“Then you come find me.” she replied, as though it was obvious.

“A sure way to get me killed, Milady.” he shook his head.

“No one gets to kill you,” she said in a low voice, Gendry went wide eyed, “I’m the only one who gets to do that.”

A smirk broke out over Gendry’s face as the two of them locked eyes. 

“Beric,” Lady Smallwood says, nodding towards Arya and Gendry, “do we need to talk about that.”

Beric sighed in response, the men had all been ignoring the growing closeness between the two young people over the past few years.

“Who  _ is _ she?” Ravella asks him.

“Arya Stark.” Beric responds after a pause, “But no one outside of us can know.”

“How is the Stark child with you? How has she been with you all this time?” Ravella looked at him wide eyed.

“Caught the two of them, few years back, with another lad.” Beric explains, “They’d been travelling with a recruiter from the Wall. Think he’s Robert's bastard.”

“Well,” she pauses, her eyes flickering to study Gendry, “he certainly has the Baratheon look.”

Beric nods, before continuing, “We intended to ransom her back to her mother and brother, we arrived at the Twins just after the Red Wedding. Then we thought to take her to her Aunt in the Vale, she’d died days before we arrived there. Decided she’d just be safer with us. Sometimes we leave her at the Inn, or in other places, he always stays with her.”

“Is she a maiden?” Ravella purses her lips.

“That I do not know. She’d probably run me through with a sword if I asked. Although,” Beric considered his words, “if you asked her, diplomatically, she may open up.”

Ravella nods in understanding, “What do you plan to do with her?”

“She’s one of us.” he responds, “Her fate is in her hands, but she wants to fight with us. She has no family.”

“What of Lord Edmure and the Blackfish?” Ravella asks, peering over to Arya.

“They do not know her, we asked, Edmure met her as a child, but that was a long time ago. Unfortunately in this situation, she is the only one of the Stark children without the Tully look.”

“The older sister is rumoured to be reappearing.” Ravella says in a low voice.

“They never got on.” Beric answers.

“Is that your way of saying she belongs with all you men?” she asks him, sternly. 

“What can I say? What can I do?” he asks in frustration, running a hand down his face. 

“They’re talking about us.” Arya folds her arms across her chest, nodding towards Beric and Lady Smallwood sitting close together at the head of the table.

“Think she knows who you are?” Gendry asks.

“She’s sworn to my Uncle,” Arya tilts her head, “she may know the name.”

“We could always steal some horses and ride off in the dead of night?” Gendry grins at her.

Arya chuckles, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

After their lunch Lady Smallwood’s servants showed them all off to their rooms, ordering them to wash and change into clean clothes.

“I’ll show you your chambers, My Lady,” the woman says, carefully steering Arya out of the hall, “mayhaps we can talk?”

“I don’t have to wear a dress do I?” Arya asks as they walk.

“Not if you don’t want to, although you have grown a little, my son's clothes may not fit any longer, we’ll try though.” she answers kindly.

“Okay,” Arya answers quietly.

“Your hair looks like it could do with a brushing,” Lady Smallwood says, running a hand over her hair.

“I don’t really get to brush it on the road. It’s better than it was, we’ve been at the Inn at the Crossroads for a while.” Arya replies. 

“Would you mind if I brush it out?” Lady Smallwood smiles at her, “I miss doing that for my daughter.”

“My mother used to brush my hair.” Arya said sadly, “I hated it, but I miss it now she’s gone.”

“You probably just did not like sitting still!” Lady Smallwood gave a small laugh, to which Arya shrugged. 

Arya bathed and washed her hair, once she’d changed into some of Lady Smallwood’s sons clothes she sat down on a stool to allow the Lady to brush out her hair. The clothes fit, mostly, the arms were a little short and the first shirt she tried was tight around her chest, but it was fine once they found a shirt with laces in.

As Lady Smallwood was brushing her hair, Arya tried to remain still, something she could never do as a child.

“It must be hard for you, travelling with so many men.” Lady Smallwood said. 

“I’m used to it.” she responds.

“How long is it since you left your mother?” Lady Smallwood asks.

“I was 9,” Arya does the maths, “so 7 years ago.”

“You must have missed her a lot,” Lady Smallwood pauses her brushing, “how did you handle your body changing over that time?”

“I just did,” she shrugged, “luckily we were at The Peach the first time my moon blood came. Gendry thought I was dying when we woke up and there was blood on the sheets.” 

She laughed at the memory, but Lady Smallwood flinched.

“Gendry is the boy you were sitting by?” she asks her.

“Yeah,” Arya smiles.

“You’re in love with him.” Lady Smallwood says, simply. 

Arya chews on her lower lip.

“Yes,” she eventually says quietly.

“And does he love you?” Lady Smallwood comes to sit beside her.

“Yes,” Arya nods her head, “don’t tell Beric and the others though.”

“Why don’t you want them to know?” Lady Smallwood asks.

Arya frowns, “They’ll treat me differently, tell me I’m not allowed to share a bed with Gendry.” 

“I won’t tell them that then.” Lady Smallwood takes her hand in hers, “Although, they should never have let the two of you share a bed.”

“We’d been together sharing body heat for several years before we joined up with them, they tried to stop it, but I ignored them.” she shrugged. 

“Arya, there  _ is _ something else I want to ask you.” the older woman said softly, lightly squeezing her hand.

“Am I a maiden?” Arya cocks her head to the side.

Lady Smallwood nods.

“Beric asked you to ask, right?” Arya asks her.

“Well,” Lady Smallwood pauses.

Arya snorts, “I am.”

“Good.” Lady Smallwood looks relieved, _ why should she be, it’s my body _ , Arya thinks to herself.

“It’s all Gendry’s doing though,” Arya continues, “he’s quite proper for a bastard from Flea Bottom. I think he wanted to run the first time I kissed him.”

“He’s an honest man then. Does he treat you right?” she asks.

“Always.” Arya smiles softly to herself. 

“How come you were so long?” Gendry asks as she finds him in the yard.

“Had a lady talk.” she replies.

“Oh?” he frowns.

“Don’t worry, I think you’re safe.” she turns to him, “I painted you as the perfect gentleman.”

Gendry smiles, then frowns. She can see the confusion etched on his face.

She chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before turning away from him.

“Arya, wait!” he calls after her, but she strides back into the building. 

“Oi, Beric wants you.” Anguy shouts down the hall as she’s walking towards him, Gendry on her heels. 

“Where is he?” she asks.

“Follow me.” Anguy responds. 

Arya rolls her eyes before following Anguy down a series of halls, he knocks the door before walking into the room with Arya and Gendry following .

Beric is sitting around a table with Tom, Harwin, Lem and Thoros. 

“Take a seat Beric nods to the empty chair.” Arya looks to Gendry, then to Anguy before taking the seat.

“What about them?” she asks, pointing to the younger men in the room.

“They can stay, or leave, up to you.” Tom looks at the two of them.

Arya feels Gendry step forward to stand behind her chair.

“Look, Arya,” Beric rubs his hand over his face, “we _were_ intending to take the two of you with us for a while.”

“And now you’ve changed your mind?” she snaps.

“Arya, listen to what he has to say,” Harwin said kindly. 

Arya raised her eyebrows at Beric, inviting him to continue.

“Lady Smallwood passed on some news, and before you ask, I’m not sharing it with you. I need to check it out for myself, at the moment it is a rumour. I want to go and find out before I tell you.” Beric explains.

“Then why can’t I come with you?” she asks.

“You’ll be safer here.” Thoros replies. 

“Seen it in your fires have you?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

“If not here, we could take you to The Peach?” Tom suggests.

“Tom,” Arya smiles sweetly, “that says more about you than it does about me.”

“You know me Milady, anything to visit a whore house!” the man laughs.

“We can take you back to the Inn,” Lem suggests.

“Gendry,” Beric looks at him, behind Arya’s chair, “Lady Smallwood has work around here you’d be helpful with.”

Arya shakes her head in frustration, knowing they were trying to go around her.

“I have conditions.” she responds at last. 

“Let me hear them.” Beric gestures for her to begin. 

“Gendry gets to share my bed still,” she felt Gendry freeze behind her, his fingers digging into her shoulder, “and I want you to make sure Lady Smallwood knows that I can come and go as I please, I won’t be sitting around here like a Lady.”

Beric tightly closes his eyes before looking at the other men, “I’ll talk to her.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am REALLY hoping that the formatting comes out okay on here. It's nearly 2pm and I've been trying to upload this chapter since 9am, for some reason Google Docs isn't allowing me to highlight more than a page of my work at once, meaning I'm having to copy and paste this one page at a time *eye roll* ... Actually, it's not even a page, it will only allow me to highlight what fits on my screen!!! Anyone else ever had this issue? I'm horrendous with technology.

“Is that a dress?” Gendry asks, he’s looking at her funnily.

“No, stupid.” she scowls.

“Looks.. Dressy.” he cocks his head to the side. 

“It’s not a dress,” she motions downwards, “I’m wearing breeches! It’s just a Northern style tunic.” 

The grey tunic reached her knees, she wore a brown leather shirt over it, although she suspected she’d be switching the leathers for cotton or linen before too long, it was warmer here than back home. She also wore a pair of brown breeches and her battered black boots.

“I like it,” Gendry said in a low voice, stepping towards her.

“Thanks, I instructed Lady Smallwood’s seamstress to make it for me.” Arya grinned.

“Bet that confused the hell outta the poor woman.” Gendry chuckled.

“She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want some fancy poofy dress with all manner of lace!” Arya scoffs.

“That wouldn’t be you,” he smiles at her.

“Ravella says I should go to the town, get some new boots made.” she said to him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, eyes drifting to her boots, “In fairness, I think we’re days away from seeing your toes in those ones.”

“Arse!” she shoves him.

He laughs, capturing her in his arms.

“So, I’m going into town tomorrow,” she tilts her head up towards him, still encased within his arms, “wanna come with me?”

“Awh, do you need an escort Arry?” Gendry laughs.

“Shut up.” she mutters, “But it’s you or like a thousand guards.”

Gendry lets go of her and is doubled over with laughter, “There’s not even half that many men here!”

“Shut up.” she mutters storming off.

That night they’re laid in bed, she’s dressed in one of Gendry’s shirts, which falls to just above her knees, and he’s just in his underwear.

“Gendry?” she says quietly, pressing her body up against his.

“Hm?” he murmurs, putting his arms around her.

She shifts herself into his lap, placing her knees on either side of him.

“You okay?” he asks, reaching up to pull her down against his chest.

She puts her hands out to support her weight, allowing her to meet his eyes.

“Gendry,” she says slowly, “I  _ want  _ you.”

“You have me Arry.” he smiles up at her.

She smiles, shaking her head, “No, I  _ want  _ you.”

His blue eyes search her face, as though he’s trying to figure out what she’s thinking, she rolls her eyes and shifts her hips, ever so slightly, rubbing herself against his hardening length. His cock knew what she wanted, even if his brain hadn’t quite caught on.

“Arry,” he says, regret lacing his voice, “we can’t.”

“Why not?” she pouts, before leaning down to kiss him.

“It’s not,” he speaks breathlessly, “it’s not proper.” 

“Nothing we do is, stupid.” she chuckles against his neck, before sucking on the skin just below his left ear.

“This is different.” he sighs.

“Why?” she asks, sitting up in his lap.

Gendry shifts himself too so that he is also sat up, putting them chest to chest.

“What would happen if I get a bastard on you?” he asks.

“Marry me then.” she shrugs.

“What?” he frowns.

“I want you, and you clearly want me, if all you're worried about is making a bastard, we can marry, then our babe would be true-born.” she says simply. 

“Arya..” he says with an air of uncertainty. 

“Don’t you wanna marry me?” she asks wide eyed, insecurity creeping through her.

“Arya, I love you.” he says, his hands going to her cheeks, “But-”

“Gendry, everything that follows but is horseshit.” she huffs at him.

Gendry gives her a soft smile, “Just let me say my piece.” 

“Go on.” she says.

“You’re a Lady, and don’t say you’re not, because you are, you were born the daughter of a Lord, you’re a Lady. And me, I’m a bastard, I have no name Arry, how can I marry you when I have no name to give you?” Gendry explains.

“I’ll give you  _ my  _ name.” she says.

“Can you do that?” he frowns.

“Who’s gonna stop me?” she snorts.

“Arry,” he says cautiously.

“What?” she demands.

His eyes search hers, he looks as though he’s trying to string together an argument, but nothing is forthcoming. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers, “How are we gonna do this?”

“You’re saying yes?” she asks, leaning away from him.

“No.. I’m.. I’m just asking how. Besides,  _ I  _ need to ask  _ you _ .” he reasons. 

Arya rolls her eyes, “Guess we could just trick a septon into marrying us.”

“What kind of trick would that be?” he laughs. 

“I dunno, but they might connect the dots if I go ask them to marry Arya Stark.” she frowns at him.

“What dots?" he asks confused, "We could ask about the Septon, see if he can remain tight lipped? Even if we need to bribe him.” Gendry says.

“Maybe.” she pulls a face, “Wanna do that tomorrow then?”

“Sure, can it wait until after lunch? There’s something I need to finish in the forge first.” Gendry says quickly.

“Okay,” she pauses to think, “maybe we ought to eat in the town. Might look less odd when we’re asking questions.”

“Good idea.” he responds.

“Can you fuck me now?” she asks him quietly.

“Not yet Arry.” he smiles, pressing kisses across her face.

“Twat!” she scowls, climbing out of his lap and thrusting her hand down her underwear.

“I said I wouldn’t fuck you, but I can do that,” he smirks at her.

Arya snorts, “I should say no, to punish you.”

“But you won’t.” he grins.

“Shut up,” she mutters.

“C’mon Arry, you know my fingers can bring you more pleasure than your own,” he grins, tugging her knickers down her legs.

“What did you have to do in the forge?” Arya asks as she and Gendry ride out of the gates at Acorn Hall, side-by-side. 

“I’ll show you later,” he smirked.

“Tell me.” she demanded gently.

“I’ll show you later.” he insisted as they rode for the town.

The town was 15 minutes ride from Acorn Hall, it was a small town made up of a Sept, an inn, a handful of shops and houses.

“Let’s find the cobbler,” Arya said as they rode to the inn's stables, handing some coins to the boy looking after the horses.

“Cobbler miss?” the boy asked, “walk that way,” he points, “it’s the last building at the end of this street.”

“Thank you lad,” Gendry said smiling at the boy.

“No worries Ser.” the boy replied.

The two of them walked the way the boy had pointed, and Arya reached out to take Gendry’s hand. He looked at her with a small smile pulling at his lips.

They made their way into the cobblers shop, it was a cramped room smelling of leather and almost as hot as the forge as Gendry stoked the fires in the mornings. 

“How can I help you?” an old man said, stooped over on a stool behind a counter.

“I’m after a pair of boots, would you be able to make them?” Arya asks kindly.

“Of course lass, that’s my job.” the man smiles, “Come see, look at what we have and we can pick a style.”

Arya nods and moves towards the counter, Gendry following after her.

“What about your husband? Does he need new boots?” the man asked, looking up at them.

Arya peered over her shoulder to catch Gendry’s eye, he shook his head.

“No, my betrothed is fine for shoes.” she responds to the cobbler.

“Betrothed? Hm, your papa lets you out with him alone?” the old man asks, gathering a series of boots to show her. 

“My guardians trust him,” she smirks.

“Well, if you’re stayin’ round here long maybe you should go see the Septon.” the man suggests, placing the final pair of boots on the counter.

“What’s your Septon like?” Gendry asks. 

“Pious man; helps the needy; can be discreet if that’s what is needed.” the cobbler says, arranging the boots.

“These,” Arya picks up a pair of high boots, “could you do them in brown leather?” 

“Certainly Miss, I’ll need to take some measurements,” he says reaching for a tape. 

Arya sits on a stool the man motions to and he begins to measure her feet.

“How high are you thinking?” he asks her.

She motions to a few inches below her knees.

“You have a queer sense of dress Miss.” the man observes.

Arya shrugs in response, not knowing how to respond.

“You don’t mind your betrothed wearing breeches Ser?” he asks, looking up at Gendry.

“Whatever she’s comfortable with.” he answers plainly.

“How much?” Arya asks the man.

“Seven pennies and a stag.” the man says, she looks to Gendry who nods to confirm it as a fair price.

“They’ll be ready day after next, pay the pennies now, and the stag on collection.” the man informed them.

Arya reached into her tunic for her coin purse, counting out seven pennies before handing them over to the man.

“We’ll see you soon.” Gendry said as they moved to leave.

“Pleasure doin’ business with you.” the man nodded. 

“Lunch Milady?” Gendry asked as they made their way out of the cobblers store.

“Shut up with the Milady bullcrap.” she mutters, striding off towards the inn.

“Arry!” he laughs, easily catching up with her.

They make their way into the inn, it is small and only a few people are sitting around.

“Afternoon,” a buxom blonde middle aged barmaid greeted them as they entered the building, “how can I help you?”

“Could we get some food and ale please?” Gendry asks.

“Jus’ the two o' you?” the barmaid asks.

“Just the two of us.” Gendry confirms.

“Go take some seats and I’ll fetch it over shortly.” the woman smiles.

“Pick a seat.” Arya says as Gendry turns to her.

“How about there?” he points to a table which would give them the opportunity to look around the inn, but with a clear view of the door.

“Perfect,” she replies walking towards the table.

“Think we should ask more about the Septon?” Gendry asks as they sit down on a bench, side by side.

“Yes,” she nods.

“You passin’ through?” the barmaid asks, setting down two ales before them.

“We’re staying with my Aunt, just outside of town for a while.” Arya smiles at the woman.

“You married?” the barmaid smiles.

“Not yet,” Arya responds, side-eying Gendry, why were the nobility so obsessed with her maidenhead and the small folk her marital status.

“Have you a date set then?” the woman digs.

“Not quite, we were hoping to talk with the Septon though, what’s he like?” Gendry asks.

“He’s a good man,” she nods, “we’ve all been through a lot round here lately, with all the wars, but mostly we’ve survived. I’d say mostly thanks to Septon Ageor and Lady Smallwood up at Acorn Hall.”

“That’s good to hear.” Arya responded.

“I’m going to go check on your food,” the woman said, before leaving them alone.

“Sounds like the Septon may be alright for this.” Gendry says.

“You want to go see him?” she replies.

“I guess.” he answers.

“Are you a knight?” a child asks, wide-eyed standing next to their table.

“Me?” Arya asks.

“Yeah!” the child beams up at her, his front teeth are missing and his red hair is sticking up around his ears.

“No, but he is.” she nods to Gendry.

“But you have a sword.” the boy points to Needle.

“You don’t have to be a knight to have a sword, lad.” Gendry smiles.

“Kevan!” the barmaid swats the boy across the back of his head, “Away with you, leave them be.”

“He’s no trouble,” Arya smiles to her.

“My Gran’ son,” the woman explains, setting down two bowls of stew, “got knights on the brain he has! I’m sorry Ser.”

“I’m gonna fetch you some bread to soak that up.” she nods before walking away.

“You know I could make you a knight,” Gendry says to her.

“I know,” she replies.

“You don’t wanna be a knight?” he asks.

“Ser Arya?” she asks.

“Kind of has a ring to it.” he laughs.

“You wanna marry a knight?” she smirks at him.

“Maybe I do,” he chuckles.

“I’ll think on it.” she rolls her eyes.

The barmaid points them in the direction of the Septon, they take off hand-in-hand towards the Sept. Frankly Arya didn’t give two pennies about the Faith of the Seven, but it was the best way to ensure that their marriage would be respected.

“Hey,” she stopped suddenly, pulling Gendry to stop beside her.

“What’s up?” he gently frowns.

“I  _ know  _ we have to get married by a Septon, so other people see it as a real marriage, but..” she chewed on her lower lip.

“You want to marry before your Gods also?” he asks.

“Yes,” she responds, shyly.

“How do we do it?” he squeezes her hand.

“You’ll do it?” she asks, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I’d do  _ anything _ for you.” he says softly, reaching out to caress her cheek.

“We.. well, we just need a heart tree, there isn’t much to it, just the Gods and us, usually the bride's father, maybe some others, basically it is a conversation to ask for blessings from the Gods.” she explained. 

“Where do we find one?” he asks.

“That’s the tricky part,” she chews her lip once more, “once, they were everywhere, but now.. The followers of the Seven have destroyed many of the Godswoods, most are only at castles these days.”

“We should ask Lady Smallwood to plant one,” Gendry smiles.

“Thoughtful,” she reaches up to caress his jaw, “ _ but  _ it takes a long time for the trees to grow. The closest ones to here.. Are.. Riverrun.. An-and and Harrenhal.” 

“So we need to go to Riverrun?” he asks, completely ignoring Harrenhal, for which she is thankful, merely saying the name of the place made her feel sick to her guts. 

Arya clenches her jaw, realising the implications of going to Riverrun, she didn’t even know her Mother’s family who resided there now, and unlike her siblings, she was all Stark. She thought she could ask Beric about it on his return, maybe they would have business at Riverrun.

“I think it would be fine for us to ask for the Gods blessings whenever we reach a Godswood.” she shrugs in the end.

“Okay,” he nods, “you sure you’re sure about  _ all  _ this, Arry?”

“I’m more sure about marrying you than I’ve been about anything in my life.” she says, voice full of sincerity. 

“Me too,” he responds before pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “c’mon, let’s go find this Septon.”

“Travelers is it?” the Septon asks as they enter the Sept, clear that they were not locals.

“We’re staying with family for a few weeks.” Gendry replies. 

The Septon nods, but Arya sees him studying the two of them.

“What can I help you with?” he asks as Arya peers around the seven sided building. It’s quite plain, unlike the Septs she saw in Kings Landing which were decorated with all manner of precious rocks, yet around the room there were seven carved nooks with fairly simple statues placed within them. Arya noticed several candles laid before the Father, the Mother and the Maiden, and two before each the Warrior, the Crone and the Smith.

“Did you wish to light a candle?” the Septon asks, kindly before peering to Gendry, “I take it you’d be a Warrior’s man? Maybe your wife could light a candle for the Mother.”

Gendry shakes his head but reluctantly responds, “The Smith.”

“And.. well.. We wanted to discuss marriage with you.” Arya says, her eyes landing on the candle-less niche of the Stranger,  _ that’s where I’d light a candle. _

“Oh, you’re.. Okay.” the Septon nods.

“Look, Septon,” Arya tries to be diplomatic, “we’re orphans, we’ve been without family for years, we’ve only really had one another. But.. things have changed, and we want to commit ourselves to one another in front of the Gods.”

“You said you were staying with family.” the Septon replies, quickly.

“Yes,” she smiles slightly, “our blood family’s have gone, but we have those around us who are family to us.”

“I understand.” he nods.

“Sit,” the Septon motions to the benches in the Sept, he takes a bench across from them, “tell me about yourselves, and how you ended up here.”

“Arry?” Gendry says quietly, asking for her to lead.

“We left Kings Landing the day Lord Stark was executed,” Arya says, “we didn’t know each other, but travelled in the same group. All were boys and men, bar me. When we left, only the man leading our party knew who I was, knew I was a girl. He shaved my head, instructing me to pretend to be a boy for safety. It was relatively easy, I was small and scrawny, didn’t much resemble a girl. He quickly noticed there was something different about me, he figured out I was a girl, but he kept my secret. We’ve been travelling around together since, sometimes with others, sometimes it’s just us.”

The Septon listens intently, nodding when she’s done.

“Are you a maiden?” he asks.

“Yes.” she answers immediately. 

Arya frowns as he studies her, “You’re a noble woman.” he says knowingly. 

Her eyes flicker to Gendry, the two of them had taken care to dress in their older clothing today, something less conspicuous in the town, but something had given her away.

“Why do you say that?” Gendry asks the Septon.

“In part, it’s the way she talks. I expect it is rougher than it once was, but for the most part her speech is quite complex.” the Septon explains, “And, I expect if she were low-born, she would not be a maiden.”

Gendry nods at his explanation.

“So,  _ who  _ are  _ you _ ?” the Septon asks, “A noble woman who wants to marry a smith?”

“It matters not who I am, will you marry us or not?” Arya asks, impatience building within her.

“Well, my dear, it does matter,” the Septon smiles softly, “I need to know who you are to marry the two of you.”

Arya bites down on her lower lip, deep in thought, “I need to know that I can trust you first.”

“I’m a Septon, of course you can trust me.” he responds.

Arya snorts, “Sorry, it’s just..”

“We’ve come across a lot of.. Unsavoury Septons on our travels.” Gendry finishes for her.

“Sadly many have fallen low in these years of war, we all have suffered.” the Septon responds.

“Yes, as have we, which is why I’m hesitant to trust.” Arya replies.

“Mayhaps you should say a prayer to the Crone, ask for her guidance as to whether you can trust me?” he says, lacing his hands together as though in prayer.

“Mayhaps I’ll ask the Stranger? The Stranger deals with the unknown does he not?” she suggests.

The Septon inclines his head, “You’re a Northerner, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been out of the North for a long time.” she replies, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Wouldn’t you rather marry before the Old Gods?” the Septon asks.

“There’s no Godswood nearby.” she responds.

“And I’m of the Severn, we felt a Sept would be more apt.” Gendry adds.

“What would convince you to trust me?” he asks.

Arya studies the man, he’s thin, but he looks like he hasn’t suffered too much from lack of food.

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile, “Well, as it goes people in the village have spoken well of you, that is what convinces me.”

“So, you trust me?” the Septon asks cautiously.

“I trust few people with my identity Septon, but I suppose if you swear it to the Seven that you would protect my secret then I could trust you.” she says.

“But of course,” he says before moving to kneel in the centre of the Sept.

“You trust him?” Gendry whispers to her as the Septon prayers.

“I don’t think he’ll betray us.” she responds, knowing full well those were two different things.

“Now, to marry you I must know _who_ you are.” he says, coming to stand before them.

Arya rises from the bench, Gendry following her lead.

“My name is Arya, of House Stark.” she says, holding her head high.

The Septon studies her, “Are you not dead?”

“It seems not.” she smirks, “And my betrothed is Gendry, he’s a blacksmith from the capitol.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> '“What dots?" he asks confused' - mostly because I can't even remember what those dots were...


	5. Chapter 5

“Where have the two of you been?” Lady Smallwood sighs as they return to Acorn Hall and dismount their horses.

“Town,” Arya casually responds, “for my boots, gotta go back next week to collect them.”

“Well you took your time!” Lady Smallwood chides them.

“Just wanted to see the town.” Arya smiles.

“Well now, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about two travellers asking questions about the Septon would you?” she asks.

Arya shrugs.

“Now Gendry,” Lady Smallwood turns to him, “I wouldn’t have taken you for a pious fella, couldn’t have been Lady Arya wanting to see a Septon, she doesn’t keep the Seven.” 

“Uh,” Gendry rubbed the back of his neck, “I wanted.. Uh to.. Urgh.. light a candle to the Smith?”

“Convincing.” Lady Smallwood shakes her head clearly not believing them, and Arya snorted rolling her eyes at his attempt.

“I’ll be in the forge,” Gendry says pressing a kiss to her cheek, before heading towards the forge.

“Come,” Lady Smallwood says to her once they’re alone, she laces her arm through Arya’s, leading her inside. 

She says nothing whilst they walk, but Arya figures she’s going to get a questioning once they make it inside somewhere. 

Acorn Hall was small for a castle, the keep was large and made from oak, rather than stone. The castle was lightly staffed and Lady Smallwood was the only permanent high-born in residence. Her husband and son were both dead, her son from a childhood disease and her husband Lord Theomar Smallwood died in one of the battles in the wars that had been ravaging Westoros. They had word that he was alive following the Siege of Riverrun, but Ravella told them that not long after that some men returned  home to deliver his bones. The Lord and Lady had a daughter, Carellen, who had been sent to a Motherhouse in Old Town for protection at the start of the war, but that had been nearly 6 years ago. So Lady Smallwood lived with a small household for most of the time, with members of the Brotherhood coming and going from time-to-time.

“Tea Arya?” Ravella asks as they enter her solar.

“Sure,” she responds, taking a seat in a leather arm chair, Ravella leaves the room returning a few minutes later with a maid who sets the tray down on a small table between Arya’s chair and a second one which she sinks into.

“Why were you at the Sept?” Ravella asks over her teacup, a determined gaze in her eyes.

“I like the building.” she responds before taking a sip of her own tea.

“Arya,” Ravella sighs.

“What do  _ you  _ think I was doing there?” she asks.

“Honestly,” she pauses, “I don’t know what to think!”

Arya studies the older woman, she guesses she’s the closest thing she’s had to a mother in years, yet Arya had always had a turbulent relationship with her mother. She loved her mother fiercely, just as she did her whole family, however the two of them had never really seen eye-to-eye. Her mother was always forcing her into pretty dresses which Arya would promptly muddy, or forcing her to sew or sing, both of which she did poorly, although she loved to sing all the same.

“Gendry and I,” Arya paused, giving herself a final opportunity to back out, “we.. we wish to marry.”

Ravella Smallwood sat watching her with a blank expression, Arya was expecting her to shout and scream and forbid them from doing any such thing but instead a smirk pulled at her lips.

“What?” Arya narrowed her eyes in response.

“Frankly I’m shocked you haven’t already done it, my dear.” Ravella reached out to take her hand.

“You’re.. You’re not going to stop us?” Arya asks.

“No!" she pauses, "But I want to be there, and you should wear a dress,  _ those  _ are my conditions.” Ravella squeezes her hand.

“Okay..” Arya responds, slightly shocked. 

“What?” Ravella asks as Arya watches her.

“I don’t know, just.. Why are you being so amenable?” Arya asks.

“Child,” she sighs, lightly resting a hand against Arya’s cheek, “it’s been far too long since I saw my own daughter. I want what is best for you, and for you, that is clearly Gendry.”

“See, there was me thinking that you were the closest thing I had to a mother,” Arya could feel tears pricking her eyes, “but my mother would  _ never  _ have accepted Gendry.”

“I’m sure she would dear,” Ravella took her hands once more, “I’m sure that if she saw how much the two of you love one another she would have accepted it.”

Arya closed her eyes and shook her head, thinking back to how her mother had treated Jon as a child just for being a bastard, she knew there was no way Catelyn Stark would have approved of her daughter marrying a low-born bastard. But that did not matter any more, her family were dead, her mother, her father, Robb, even little Bran and Rickon. No one had heard anything about Sansa for several years, not since Joffrey’s wedding, and she hadn’t heard anything about Jon in even longer than that. Gendry was her family now, Gendry and the Brotherhood and by extension those like Ravella Smallwood and the orphans at the Inn.

“Thank you for saying that.” Arya smiled, squeezing Ravella’s hand.

“You told her?” Gendry asked wide eyed, he’d been in the middle of removing his clothes, filthy from the forge when Arya threw herself down onto their bed and declared that Ravella Smallwood would be attending their wedding.

“Was I meant to keep it a secret?” Arya props herself up on an elbow, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I haven’t even asked you to marry me yet stupid.” Gendry says, before splashing water on his face and cleaning himself with a cloth.

“Well won’t you hurry up, I haven’t got all year.” she huffs.

“Oh why?” he grins at her, “You pregnant or something Arry?”

“Piss off, you’d actually need to fuck me for that.” she rolls her eyes, “But in all seriousness, we’re getting married the day after next, so get on with it.”

“Well, how about this?” he asks, slowly walking towards her, “I’ll ask you sometime before then.”

“Idiot!” she huffs, but laughs when he wraps his arms around her, her cheek pressed against his bare chest. 

The next morning Gendry awakes before Arya, he dresses as quietly as he can before sneaking out of their room careful not to wake her. He heads straight to the kitchen, he’d asked the cook the night before to prepare a breakfast picnic. 

“Good morning Laena!” Gendry greets the cook as he enters the kitchen.

“Good morning Ser Gendry, you’re in a good mood!” the round woman responded with her usual cheery smile.

“Well, it’s a beautiful day!” he smiled in response.

“Hm, I think it’s more to do with a breakfast date with your Lady.” she winked at him.

Gendry blushed, his eyes falling to the floor, “Is it ready?”

“Not quite, come back in about 10-15 minutes, is that okay?” she asks.

“Certainly, I need to find Lady Smallwood anyway.” he nodded.

“She’ll be in her solar lad.” Laena responded.

“I’ll see you soon.” he nodded before heading out of the kitchens towards Lady Smallwood's solar.

“Gendry?” Lady Smallwood looked shocked to see him at her door, “What are you doing here so early?”

“I want to surprise Arya,” he smiled shyly, “I’ve organised a breakfast picnic, but I want her to come unknowingly. Will you tell her to come?”

“Where to?” she asks.

“The oak tree by the pond.” he smiles, “I’ll leave soon, I have to go collect the food, she was asleep when I left, so could you maybe wake her and send her out when I leave?”

“I will,” she smiled in response, “but what are you up to?”

Gendry shifted uncomfortably before thrusting his hand into his pocket pulling out a ring and handing it over, “It ain’t much, but..” he blushed.

She looked down at the ring now in her hand, “Did you make this?”

“Uh.. yeah..” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She will love it Gendry.” Lady Smallwood said before reaching out to take his hand, “You’re a good man.”

Arya startled awake by a knock at her bedroom door, she turns and notices that Gendry is not in bed.  _ Odd,  _ she thought, usually Gendry made such a noise whilst getting ready that it would wake her.

“Come in?” Arya calls out.

“Did I wake you sweetling?” Ravella asks as she opens her door up. 

“Uh.. it’s okay, have you seen Gendry?” she frowns.

“He had an emergency job, a horse threw a shoe,” Ravella shakes her head.

“Oh.” Arya responds, “Did you need something?”

“Well, I was wondering,” Ravella walked further into the room, “I took a stroll after sunrise, I had a book with me, but I think I left it at the tree by the pond, you wouldn’t mind heading down there would you? It's only, I have a meeting with the maester shortly, and I'm worried it might rain and destroy the book.”

“Yeah, that’s okay, did you want me to go now or after I’ve broken my fast?” she asks.

“Oh, now if it’s not too much trouble.” Ravella smiles at her.

“That’s fine,” she shrugged, “I’ll get dressed and head off.”

“Thank you, now we’ll discuss that dress later.” Ravella kissed her cheek, before winking at her.

Arya snorted and rolled her eyes.

As she made her way outside of the castle the sun was breaking through the clouds, the day was already warm, winter seemed to be ebbing away in the Riverlands, but Arya suspected that it was merely a trick, there was no way winter was ending. She thought it odd that Ravella claimed it looked like it would rain seeing as the only clouds in the sky were as pale as lambs wool. 

The walk to the oak tree was about ten minutes from the castle, it was a place she and Gendry often went to when they wanted to escape everyone else, but it seemed Ravella also had the same escape location. Although, Arya began to wonder why the Lady would have walked out here to read so early in the morning. That is until the tree came into view and Arya knew, there was no book and no horse that had thrown a shoe.

The tree was an ancient oak, it had numerous gnarled branches sprawling in every which direction, it’s leaves were a lush green and there were small acorns beginning to grow amongst them. But it wasn’t the tree that held her attention, it was what was below the tree. A blanket had been spread out across the ground with a basket set in the middle and a variety of foods laid out around the basket. In front of the blanket, Gendry was beaming at her and as she approached he dropped down onto one knee.

“What are you doing?” she laughed lightly.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She took her lower lip between her teeth in an attempt to conceal her smile, Gendry’s deep blue eyes studying her the whole time.

“Arya of House Stark, I have nothin’ to give you, save my hammer and my heart, but,” she watched as he reached inside a pocket to pull something out, “will you.. Will you be my family?” he held up a ring.

Although she knew he was insisting on asking her to marry him, even after she had asked him and they had spoken to the Septon it had still slightly taken her unawares. More the ring than anything else, she reached out to take the ring from his hands, sliding it on to her finger to study it.

“Gen,” she gasped, tears pricking her eyes, “it’s.. Did.. you.. Did you make it?”

Gendry was beaming up at her, still down on one knee, he nodded his confirmation and a shot of heat exploded through her chest. She knelt down before him, her hands resting on his cheeks before gently covering his lips with her own. She kissed him until she had to pull back for air, then pressed her forehead against his.

“I’ll be your family, now and always.” she responded quietly.

She felt his breath against her face as he laughed from joy, he kissed her once more before she began to tug them both back onto their feet.

Once stood Gendry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him and she peered down at the picnic he had organised. 

“Anyway, what’s all this you big softie?” she asked motioning to the food.

“Wanted to do something special,” he beamed at her as they settled onto the blanket in front of the food, she smiled before reaching for a heel of bread. 

Her eyes fell to the ring Gendry had given her, a smile formed on her face.

“It’s what I was making.. In the morning before we went to town..” he said.

“Really?” she asked, looking up at him, wide eyed. 

“Yeah, well, I was finishing it off, take it off,” he says.

“No!” she pouted.

“Just for a moment, I want to show you something.” he laughed, reaching for her hand.

“It’s silver,” Gendry said, running his finger across the ring, “I’ve been collecting scraps from different places, anything I can find, so the quality isn’t great, but it holds. I engraved the leaves for your God tree,” he ran a calloused finger over the two leaves that met at the front of the ring, “I wish I could’ve done a wolf, but inside..” his voice trailed off as he carefully placed the ring into her hand, “take a look.”

“How..?” she gasped.

“I uh, I asked Ravella to write your name for me,” he said whilst rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand, “an’ I just copied it, like I do with any engravings. I wanted to put both our names, but your fingers are too small!”

Arya smiled at him, “I love it.. I love you!” 

“Good,” he grinned, crashing their lips together, “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I didn't actually put it, but the name in the ring is Stark, rather than Arya! .. just to clarify


	6. Chapter 6

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she smirks.

“Arya?” he presses.

She turns grinning wickedly at him before glancing around her, on seeing that no one was around she pushed him against a wall, roughly pressing her lips against his.

“Didn’t wanna kiss me like that in the sept?” he panted against her neck.

“Didn’t think the Septon or Lady Smallwood would approve!” she laughed before capturing his right earlobe between her teeth, tugging it between her teeth.

“That..” he gasped as she began to suck behind his ear, “may be true.”

“Arya!” Ravella called, yet neither of them could see her, maybe she felt they needed some privacy.

“I’m going to finish this later.” she said in a low voice, trailing her hand down Gendry’s chest.

“Please do.” he laughed before reaching out to take her hand.

The two of them made their way to the Great Hall of Acorn Hall hand-in-hand, the household were gathered waiting for them.

“Here they are!” Lady Smallwood stood, holding her arms out and beaming to the small crowd gathered in the room.

There were around 30 people gathered, household staff, guards and the Septon. Ravella had expressed her intent to hold some form of feast following their wedding, Arya only agreed on the condition that all who lived inside Acorn Hall be allowed to attend, and that their feast be limited to 3 courses at most.

Arya and Gendry were given the centre of the top table as it was their wedding feast, Ravella sat to Arya’s left and the Septon to Gendry’s right.

The first course was a creamy mushroom soup, followed by mutton pie and apple cake. The food was all quite simple as far as a “noble” wedding feast went, but it was more than enough.

Once they had finished eating Arya turned to the Lady of the House, “Ravella, would you mind if we..” she nodded towards the door.

Ravella smiled at the two of them, “Well you’re not wed officially until that is done.”

Arya peered over her shoulder at Gendry who was blushing as red as a beetroot.

Arya just laughed softly before grasping her husband’s hand, “Come.”

“You’re lucky it’s not a full on wedding.” Arya nudged him as they walked towards their chambers.

“What do you mean?” he asked her.

“Have you ever heard of a bedding ceremony?” she grimaced just thinking of it.

“What’s that?” he frowned.

“Usually.. Once the festivities have ended, someone will call for the bedding. The men begin to strip off the bride, the women the groom. All the while they’re shouting lewd comments and carrying them to their marriage bed.” Arya explained.

“Fuck.” Gendry responded.

“Yeah,” she replied, “if anyone had tried that on me, they’d end up with Needle buried deep in their guts.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Gendry laughed. 

“You are the  _ only  _ person who gets to see me naked.” she said squeezing his hand.

“I’m glad of that!” he laughed.

The dress Arya had worn to her wedding had been hastily made by Lady Smallwood’s seamstress. It was floor length and pale blue, it dipped in at the front cut with a grey silk which came around to form a collar. The seamstress had even managed to pick out a few weirwood leaves into the blue cloth with a silver thread. She had wanted wolves, but thought it would be a bit too conspicuous. The dress was held at the waist with a deeper blue belt, which Arya had insisted on, because where else could she put Needle?

“The dress looks good on you,” Gendry smirked as they entered their chamber.

“Don’t get used to it,” she scowled, before relenting, “it’s okay though.”

“See, I think it’s not the dresses that you’re against,” Gendry whispered into her ear, “it’s being told what you should do that irks you.”

“Well duh.” she snorted.

Gendry chuckled in response, his eyes running over her.

“Well, y’know,” Arya nibbled on her lower lip, “you may think this dress looks good on me, but it looks so much better folded over that chair.”

“Oh, the chair?” Gendry cocked an eyebrow, “Not the floor?”

“Gendry, just get the fucking dress off of me!” she snapped then poked her tongue out at him.

“Yes Milady.” he responded, stepping towards her to start undressing her.

Gendry had worn a black doublet, it was clearly not his. The fabric was patterned rather than plain as he usually wore, it must have been Lord Smallwood’s, however the breeches he wore were his own. He’d looked handsome in his clean clothes, although it did not matter to Arya what he wore, he would look handsome in rags.

She began unbuttoning Gendry’s doublet, before working on the ties of the shirt below it, stepping back to allow him to raise her dress up over her head.

“See, breeches are easier!” she protested as the dress caught on her chin.

“Aye, but I could’ve bunched your skirts up and pulled down your undergarments and taken you that way.” he responds in a seductive tone.

Arya smirked up at him, “And why didn’t you?”

“Thought I’d save it for another time, that’s a sure fire way of gettin’ you back in a dress.” he winked.

“Fuck you!” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Ah, my wife,” he beamed at her, “ _ that  _ is exactly what I’m trying to do!”

“Stupid!” she muttered, starting on his belt.

Once they had divested one another from their clothing, Gendry laid back on the bed, holding his arms out for her. His member was already fully erect and she could feel her nipples puckering.

Arya smirked at him, before climbing onto the bed beside him.

His lips instantly met hers, before travelling down her neck, then coming to suckle at her breast. His left hand rested against her neck as the right hand drifted between her thighs.

She sighed the moment his fingers made contact with her core.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he sighed against her breast.

“Uh,” she moaned, her eyes straining to stay open as she ran her fingers through his coal black hair. Eventually she reached out to remove his hand.

“Gendry,” she sighed, he lifted his head to meet her eyes.

He nodded in response knowing what she wanted.

He shifted his body to hover above her, he met her with a tender kiss before moving to align himself with her entrance. He gently stroked himself a few times before pressing his tip to her heat.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

“I’ve been ready for months, you stupid Bull!” she laughed, reaching up to pull his lips down to hers. 

He nodded, then carefully pushed his way inside of her. Despite the dampness between her thighs, he didn’t glide in easily, there was a tight friction as he moved into her. 

She gasped at one point and Gendry froze, “Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“Yeah,” she closed her eyes, “just.. An odd sensation, I’m fine.. Carry on.”

He continued to press on inside of her, there was a slight pain but the pleasure behind the pain was worth it.

“You okay for me to move?” Gendry asks, fully sheathed inside of her.

“Please,” she groaned.

Gendry lightly kissed her brow before beginning to move his hips. After a few thrusts, Arya attempted to move her hips to meet his, it did not work all that well.  _ I guess it’ll take practice,  _ she thought to herself whilst kissing Gendry’s neck.

Gendry ducked his head to begin teasing her nipples with his teeth, she sighed at the pleasure that came from that mixed with the friction between her thighs.

“Ar,” Gendry groaned, his movements slowing.

“Yeah?” she smiled at him.

“I’m close.” he said quietly.

“Go,” she ran her hands across his broad shoulders, “please?”

He nodded, his pace becoming more erratic as he thrust into her a few more times before collapsing atop of her.

She felt a damp warmth inside of her, Gendry rolled off of her then began to move down the bed.

“Where are you going?” she frowned.

Gendry grinned at her, pushing her thighs apart before bringing her to completion with his tongue. 

“Good morning, Ser Gendry Stark.” she beams at him when they awake the morning after their wedding.

Gendry beams back at her, “I’m not sure anyone else is going to quite take to that, my love.”

“I’ll make them!” she responds, reaching out for Needle.

“Hey, how about we hold back on the threats a little?” he responded, reaching out for her sword, momentarily she narrowed her eyes at him before handing her beloved Needle to him.

“Thank you, wife.” he replied, placing Needle on the side next to the bed then turning to trail kisses across her jaw.

“So.. are you going to tell me how you learnt how to do that thing with your mouth last night?” she asked in a low voice, climbing into his lap.

Gendry grinned at her, “I suppose the same way you knew how to take me in your mouth.” 

“The whores at the Peach taught you?” she gasped.

“Wait.. what?” Gendry stuttered.

Arya collapsed forward onto his chest, laughter racking her small body. 

“Did they.. Really?” Gendry asked once Arya’s laughter had ceased. 

Arya shrugged.

“C’mon, tell me!” Gendry begged.

“They would have if I asked,” she responded, “mostly I just learned it by listening to them talking about it.”

“And that’s what I meant by I learnt it the same way as you!” he laughed, “But it was Anguy and Tom,”

“Well, remind me to thank them,” she said rutting her hips against him.

“Do you _want_ them to kill me?” Gendry asked wide eyed, grasping her hips and holding her still in his lap.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t release me,” she raised her eyebrows at him.

He snorted, running his hands up her stomach, his thumbs and index fingers playing with her nipples. She shifted herself, then settled herself down on his cock, watching him as his eyes rolled backwards at her movements.

“You like that?” she asked as she rocked her hips against him.

“Gods Arya.. you’re.. Fuck.. you’re incredible.” he struggled to form a sentence. 

She could feel his hips moving in sync with hers far more than they had just the night before, she concentrated on the rhythm the two of them were setting when Gendry’s right hand came off of her breast, travelling down between the two of them. As her hips rocked against him, his fingers began to circle the nub just above where they were joined. A pool of heat settled in her lower stomach as she thrust and he rubbed, then the heat began to travel out across her entire body, her eyes clenched shut as she clenched around his length. Her completion was enough to pull him over with her, she rolled off of his chest to lay beside him, he wrapped his arms around her, their legs tangling between one  another’s, “I could get used to this.” he beamed before kissing her, their tongues fighting for dominance until someone knocked at their door.

“Urgh,” Arya groaned, “guess we need to face the world?”

“Seems that way,” Gendry replied, pulling on his breeches and tossing the blanket over Arya before heading to the door.

“Good morning,” the servant says, “Lady Smallwood sent breakfast for you.”

“Please send her our thanks,” Arya called from the bed, wrapped up in their sheets.

“Certainly.” the maid set the tray down and dipped in a small curtsey. 

“Thank you.” Gendry said to her as she left the chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya's dress is kinda based on this: https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/File:Ravella_Swann.jpg


	7. Chapter 7

“Men reported on the road!” someone called out from atop the castle walls.

“Banners?” someone called back up.

“None.” the first man responded. 

Arya was sparring with a member of the household guard, “I expect it’s the Brotherhood then,” she called to the men, not pausing her movements for even a second.

“There’s 6 horses,” the man atop the walls noted, “four dark cloaks and two lighter ones.”

“Is one yellow?” Arya asked, ducking to avoid the guards incoming swing.

“Might be, it’s hard to tell.” the man replied.

“It’s the Brotherhood," she said, pressing her attack, the man facing her was tiring quickly, she could see the grip on his pommel loosening.

The next swing of his sword was far too eager, all Arya did was to turn to her left, just moving out of the way, his swing was too hard and he began to topple over. Arya watched him closely, once he was down she lightly kicked away his sword on the ground and held Needle to the side of his neck.

“I yield.” the guard said.

“You wouldn’t have the chance to yield, you would be dead if this was real.” she informed him, removing Needle from his neck and offering him a hand up. 

“Lucky we’re only sparrin’ then.” the guard laughed.

“This time,” she answered seriously, “you need to work on your stamina, you were tiring, your grip was loosening.”

The guard nodded before bowing to her and walking off.

“Halt!” the guard at the gate called out and Arya heard the horses come to a stop outside the gates.

“Who goes there?” the guard calls.

“Tell the Lady her lover has returned!” Arya heard Anguy call out.

She noted several of the guards peer around before their eyes landed on her, she pulled a face in response.

“Fetch Lady Smallwood, tell her they’re here.” she told a boy passing through the yard, then turned to one of the guards, “Let them in.”

Arya stood her ground as the guards raised the gates. She noticed Gendry heading into the yard from the smithy near the kennels, and Ravella coming out of the castle. 

“You were longer than you said you’d be.” Arya said sternly as the men rode into the courtyard. It had been four moons since they had left, and three moons since they had married.

The men laughed at her comment as they dismounted their horses.

Gendry came to stand beside her as she stared the men down.

“I’m sorry Milady,” Beric said heading towards her, “but we do have news for you.”

“Well it better be good.” she huffed in response before turning to walk off.

“Where’s she goin’?” she heard Lem ask.

“Why are you asking me?” she heard Gendry respond, “I’m not her keeper.” 

She strode into the castle, a smile pulling at her lips at her husband’s response.

She headed to the small hall, knowing that everyone else would be heading there in their own time. Being the first there she was able to have first pick of the chairs, she positioned two chairs at the end of the table, as the Lady of the castle Ravella Smallwood would be afforded the head of the table, but Arya asserted her own dominance by taking the opposite end.

“Well, hello little wolf,” Anguy beamed at her as he entered the room followed by Hawin who nodded to her before taking a seat in the middle of the table.

Anguy moved towards her, so she swung her legs up onto the chair she’d positioned beside her.

“Had a nice trip, Archer?” she asked, tilting her head upwards. 

“Oh yeah, got to sleep in the guards quarters at some castle, my favourite!” he replied.

“Well, I’m sure you could have just kipped out in the courtyard Anguy!” she snorted. 

“Sleeping beneath the stars is just not enjoyable without you across the fire from me little wolf.” Anguy bowed before her.

Arya pulled a face at him and rolled her eyes.

“How was the trip Harwin?” Arya asks, meeting the eyes of her fellow Northerner.

“Interesting, My Lady.” he smiles at her, “I’m sure Lord Beric will explain it all shortly.”

Lem, Tom and Thoros entered next, Arya still had her feet up on the chair beside her, whilst Anguy hovered nearby. 

Gendry entered closely after the three men, his hair was wet at the front and it looked as though he’d pushed his fingers back through it. Arya moved her feet as he approached and he sat in the chair.

She leaned forward, brushing at his hair with her fingers, “Think you need to trim your hair,” she said almost tenderly. 

“Do it for me later?” he smiled. 

She rolled her eyes in response but gave him a small smile.

“Need to find yerself a wife for stuff like that lad.” Tom said.

Arya and Gendry shared a brief look with one another in response.

“How come you’re always doin’ stuff for the Smith and tellin’ the rest o’ us to fuck off then?” Lem smirked at her.

“Maybe because you all try to treat me like I’m your mother or your wife,” Arya rose from her seat, laying her hands out on the table before her, “I’m not any of your mothers or wives, so find someone or learn to do the shit yourselves.” she met the eyes of each of the five men as she spoke, although Harwin didn’t treat her that way, he was always respectful towards her, but the others often liked to push their luck.

Arya noticed Tom nudge Thoros with his elbow and nod towards her.

“Aye, what's that then?” Thoros asked, looking towards her hands on the table. 

“Good, you’re all here.” Beric observed walking into the room with Ravella. He glanced at Arya and Gendry sitting at one end of the table, a small smile pulled at the

corner of his lips and he moved to position a chair next to Ravella’s at the head of the table in mirror to what Arya had done.

“Okay,” Beric said as he settled into his chair, “I think we’ve all got a lot to discuss.” 

“Go on,” Arya motioned towards him.

“So, how have things been?” Beric asked, his eyes glancing over the two of them.

“That’s the lot that we have to discuss?” Arya cocked an eyebrow. 

“Arya,” Ravella said softly, whilst Tom, Anguy and Lem snorted. 

“Just get to it,” Arya fixed Beric with a glare.

“Okay, well we had some intel about stuff going on up North, we wanted to talk to a more reliable source about it. We travelled to Riverrun to talk to your Uncles.” Beric explained.

“What?” Anguy interrupted, “Who was her uncles?”

“Lord Tully, you idiot!” Tom clipped him across the head.

“Really?” Anguy asked, rubbing at his head.

“Do you pay any attention?” Gendry asks him.

“Well if I pay ‘er much attention your like to murder me, ain’t you!” Anguy frowns at him.

Arya ignored their arguing, turning back to Beric, “Did you tell them I was with you?” 

“Yes, they want to see you.” Beric replied. 

“At Riverrun?” Gendry asked, beside her.

“Yes.” Beric replied, Arya turned to Gendry flashing him a smile, knowing what he was thinking.

“I don’t think they’d even know me.” Arya frowned, turning back to Beric.

“Have you never met them?” Tom asks.

Arya shrugs, honestly not knowing.

“Lord Edmure visited Winterfell once, just after Bran was born.” Harwin supplied.

“Still, doubt he’d know me, my siblings all looked like Tully’s, but not me.” Arya responded quietly. 

“Hey,” Gendry replied quietly, “it doesn’t matter, they’ll know you, you’re family.”

Arya lifted her gaze to lock eyes with her husband, “I’ve lost most of my family, I just.. What if they don’t like me?”

“Who couldn’t like you?” Gendry reached for her hand, “Besides, if they don’t it’s their loss, and you still have me.. Have us..”

Arya nodded in response before Lem cleared his throat, “Touching, but there’s more.”

She pulled her gaze away from Gendry, but he still held on to her hand.

“Your sister is alive,” Beric said, Arya had no response for this.

She had not heard anything about Sansa in several years, and the relationship she had previously had as a child with her sister had been poor. But still, like she had said, she didn’t have much family left.

“Look, Arya,” Beric interrupted her thoughts, “we don’t really have details, we don’t know where exactly she is or anything like that. All we know is that she is alive and has been in the Eyrie at some point.”

“Okay, so why are you telling me?” she asks cautiously.

“She’s your sister, you deserve to know.” Beric replied. 

“But..” she stopped herself, “So what are we doing now?”

“Well, we’ll travel to Riverrun, we can decide from there. First we’re doing the loop around the Gods Eye, then we’re heading to Riverrun.” Beric told her.

“Sure, okay.” she responded, standing from her chair and releasing Gendry’s hand.

“Arya, we’re not done!” Beric called as she moved away from the table.

“Are we not?” she cocked an eyebrow, “What else?”

“Arya, sit.” Ravella said calmly, her eyes moving between her and Gendry, “Men, I wonder if you could leave us be.”

“Aye,” Tom said, taking to his feet, “a High born meeting is it?”

The other men began to move, including Gendry until Ravella fixed him with a stare, he nodded and sat back into the chair.

“I’m about to lose my balls aren’t I?” Gendry asked quietly as the other men exited the room.

Arya laughed lightly, “I’d never let them.”

“Did you tell him?” Arya asked Ravella.

“No, but I think he knows something.” she responded. 

Arya looked at Beric who was watching her with a curious gaze, “What?” she asked.

“I’m just trying to figure you out.” he said, humour tinging his voice.

“Well don’t.” she responded. 

“So, what did the two of you get up to whilst we were away?” Beric asked.

“Well, Gendry forged, I got some new clothes made, sparred and we got married.” Arya responded casually. 

“You.. got married?” Beric asked slowly. 

“Yeah,” she replied, noticing Beric’s eyes travelling to Gendry.

“Why?” he asked with a hard edge to his voice. 

“Well, I mean, why do most people get married?” she challenged. 

Beric pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed out a deep breath, “Honestly Arya, most people get married for power, or just because they’re told to.”

“Huh, well I’m glad I’ve escaped that fate.” she replied.

“Arya,” Ravella said softly, Arya met her eyes before turning back to Beric.

“I got married because I love him, okay?” she answered seriously.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Beric asked. 

“Partially I thought you’d try and stop us, but also because it was about us, not everyone else, we did what was best for  _ us _ .” she shook her head, “Besides, you were all so concerned about something inappropriate happening, now it can’t.”

“Don’t think that’s helping,” Gendry whispered. 

Arya turned to him, her eyes flickered between his, “I don’t care,” she said before her eyes dipped to his lips, “I don’t care Gendry, I love you, I don’t care what they think.”

Gendry laughed gently at her declaration and kissed her, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Arya, Gendry,” Beric’s voice caused them to pull apart, “I would not have stopped you had you expressed these wishes. If I’m honest, we’ve been waiting for something to happen with the two of you, but I didn’t expect..  _ this _ .”


	8. Chapter 8

A week later the Brotherhood left Acorn Hall heading slightly North towards High Heart, then past Harrenhal. Within a day the whole of the Brotherhood had heard about Arya and Gendry’s marriage, much of the time was made up of the men jesting with Gendry about how they were beginning to worry that he didn’t like women.

“Yeah, well, there’s only one women for me.” Gendry had blushed, draping an arm around Arya’s shoulder.

“So I’m takin’ bets on how your uncle is gonna react when we turn up with you.” Anguy said riding beside her not long after leaving Acorn Hall.

“Well that depends, doesn’t it.” Arya said, raising her eyebrows at him.

“On what?” Anguy frowned.

“Well, which uncle for starters?” Gendry suggested.

“Oi, I’m talkin’ to the Lady.” Anguy retorted.

“Shut up Anguy!” Gendry shook his head, Arya gave him a soft smile.

“Are you taking the bet for the moment we ride through the gate?” Arya asked.

“You two are taking the fun out of this.” Anguy groaned.

“You’re taking bets on  _ my  _ life,” Arya replied, “on  _ our  _ lives!”

“Well we’ve got time to figure it out, there’s plenty of time before we reach your uncles.” Anguy grinned at her.

“Fuck off already,” Arya scowled. 

“Would it kill you to smile, little wolf.” Anguy almost sang to her.

“To smile at you? Yes, it may kill me, now leave me be.” she replied, putting her heels into her horse.

“She’s gettin’ moody.” she heard Anguy say behind her.

“Didn’t she tell you to fuck off.” Gendry replied, before appearing beside her. 

They stopped for the night in an abandoned barn somewhere between Acorn Hall and Lord Harroway’s Town.

“You’ve been quiet,” Gendry observed as she unrolled their furs in the corner of the barn.

“We’re passing too close to Harrenhal for my liking.” she replied, her eyes fixating on her feet.

“Mine too, my love.” he responds, stepping forwards and pulling her against his chest, “But we’re not going back there, never.”

“Never,” she murmurs against his chest.

“C’mon, let’s sit for a bit,” he said, tugging her to the ground, Arya settled between Gendry’s legs and he held her tightly, his nose nuzzling into her hair.

Arya closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel embraced and safe within the embrace of her husband, when Tom began to strum his wood harp.

_ My featherbed is deep and soft, _

_ and there I’ll lay you down, _

_ I’ll dress you all in yellow silk,  _

_ and on your head a crown. _

_ For you shall be my lady love, _

_ and I shall be your lord. _

_ I’ll always keep you warm and safe, _

_ and guard you with my sword. _

“It’s almost as though Tom’s singing about us,” he whispered in her ear.

“Only if you’re the one in yellow silk,” she giggled.

“But of course, my love, for you are the one guarding me with your sword.” he kissed the top of her head.

Tom strung along as they spoke.

_ And how she smiled and how she laughed, _

_ the maiden of the tree. _

_ She spun away and said to him, _

_ no featherbed for me. _

_ I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves, _

_ and bind my hair with grass, _

_ But you can be my forest love, _

_ and me your forest lass. _

“Do you remember the first time Tom sang the song?” Gendry asked.

“It was at Acorn Hall,” she reminisced, “I think that was the day I realised I was in love with you.”

“I was definitely in love with you before that,” he responded, running his fingers through her hair.

“I was probably in love with you before that, but I think that moment I pinned you to the floor.. I.. realised.” she laughed, twisting to press a tender kiss to his lips.

“Oi!” Tom yelled across the room, “You two get a room.”

“That’s what you get for playin’ their song!” Thoros responds. 

“Our song?” Arya responds, twisting back around, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Don’t you think it sounds like you?” Harwin smiled.

Arya pulled her lower lip between her teeth in an attempt to hide her smile.

“Guess she ain’t no maiden no more though!” Lem laughed.

“Lem.” Gendry growled. 

“Look who’s bein’ the protective husband.” Lem laughed.

“She doesn’t need protecting, she’s the one who guards me with her sword.” Gendry responded, brushing her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Come join us at the fire,” Beric said as Harwin began to hand out the wooden bowls full of stew. 

“You two better restrain yourselves tonight,” Tom winked at them over the fire.

“Oh, only if you and Lem do.” Arya casually tossed back.

Anguy was doubled over in laughter at that.

“Things are different now though.” Tom grinned.

“Yeah, but we’ve been sharing a bed for years, so is it really that different?” Arya rolled her eyes, sinking into Gendry’s side.

“Well, you’re married now.” Harwin pointed out.

“So you should be less concerned.” Gendry replied.

“I don’t know about that, you’ve both become more.. Handsy.” Tom nodded towards them pressed against one another.

“Don’t concern yourself about us.” Arya rolled her eyes at them.

“What’s wrong?” Gendry asked, concern etched on his face, his brow furrowed and his lips down turned. 

They’d stayed the night at an inn east of the Gods Eye, close to the Kingsroad and despite it having been the first bed they’d slept in in over a week since they departed from Acorn Hall Arya had hardly slept a wink. She’d grown tired of the tossing and turning when the sun began to rise, so she rose with the sun, making her way outside. She’d positioned herself with her back to a large tree, she had a view of the road to the inn as well as the inn’s door. She sat cleaning Needle just as her father used to do with his Valyrian steel great-sword, Ice. The movements soothed her and allowed her some level of rest.

“Nothing.” she answered. 

“You look pale,” Gendry dropped to the ground beside her.

“I’m fine, Gen,” she said, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, “I just didn’t sleep well.”

“How come?” he frowned.

“Well if I knew that maybe I would have slept!” she shook her head, “It was probably just being back in a bed.” 

“Okay,” he caressed her cheek, “you’d tell me anything was troubling you though?”

“Of course.” she gives him a small smile.

“Now, come on, breakfast is ready.” he says, taking to his feet, offering a hand out to her.

“Arry, you need to eat,” Gendry pushes the bowl of mashed beets towards her.

She paled at him in response, the smell of the beets turning her stomach.

“How about the bacon?” he offers.

She shakes her head in response.

“Arry,” he sighs, “what about bread?” he held out a heel of bread to her.

She took the bread, sniffing it slightly before ripping a small piece off of it and popping it in her mouth.

“Good,” he kissed her cheek.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gendry asked her as they rode away from the inn, “You hardly ate a thing, usually you eat anything put in front of you.”

“I’m fine, just tired, promise.” she offered him a small smile.

He studied her as they rode on, which Arya thought was frankly ridiculous seeing as Gendry was not the most proficient rider, even after all of these years.

“Stop fussing over me,” she ordered, a sharpness in her voice.

“Yes, M'lady.” he smiled back at her. 

She couldn’t help but smile back at him, her earlier nausea beginning to pass.

A week later they began to ride into another town, this one was located on the South bank of the Gods Eye. There was a hold fast, clustered by white houses, Arya knew there was an inn sat on the lake’s shore, with a pier out the back, and that there was once a large Sept with a wooden roof. The Sept had been burnt to the ground several years back and replaced with a smaller one. The inn itself had managed to survive the sacking of the area, along with a couple of the houses. However, many of the people had been scared away with the raping and the pillaging of the wars. The wars still went on even now, but the battles and the pillaging had lessened, although they still broke out from time to time. 

“Looks better than the first time we came here, huh?” Gendry asked her.

Arya had just dismounted her horse outside the inn, she stared across the lake, deep in thought.

“Arya?” she heard Gendry’s voice.

She tilted her face up to look at him.

“What’s up?” he asked softly.

She worried at her lower lip before sighing, “We buried Yoren here.” 

“Do you remember where?” he asked.

She nodded her head.

“Maybe we could pick some flowers, lay them there?” Gendry asked in a soft voice.

“I used to pick flowers for my dad,” she responded, her voice catching in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes.

“Arya,” Gendry said her name with such reverence that  _ she  _ wanted to comfort  _ him. _

He wrapped her up in his arms, “We don’t have to if it makes you sad, we could just visit.”

She shook her head against his chest, “It doesn’t make me sad, it’s..” she sniffed, a wet patch was forming on Gendry’s shirt, “..it’s just a nice thought.”

Gendry responded with a light laugh, “What’s got into you?”

“I dunno,” she pulled back to wipe at her eyes, “I think these places just.. There’s a lot of memories, a lot of emotions.”

Gendry ran a hand over her head, “I know how you feel, love. I’ll tell Beric where we’re going, yeah?”

“Kay,” she offered him a small smile.

Arya sighed and peered around her, looking for wild-flowers, she noticed patches of them growing in rings around some trees. She strolled over to a tree, sinking to her knees before starting to gather some flowers, the act of it brought back memories of her picking flowers to give to her father on the road to King’s Landing all those years ago. Tears began to trickle out of her eyes as she plucked the flowers out of the ground.

“You got enough there?” Gendry asked as he approached her.

“Huh?” she sniffed, her eyes falling down to the bunch of flowers in her hands, “Uh, yeah I guess.”

She stood and made her way to Gendry’s side, “This way,” she nodded to their right and began walking towards the place they had buried Yoren all those years ago.

“You’ve been crying.” Gendry said softly, reaching out to take her hand as they walked.

“Memories,” she muttered.

“You can talk to me about them,” he said squeezing her hand.

“I know, thank you.” she responded quietly. 

“Here,” she stopped suddenly. 

“You sure?” he asked, peering around them.

“Yeah,” she pointed, “riverbank, between these two trees.”

“Okay,” Gendry nodded, “what should we do now?”

She cleared her throat, bending down to lay the flowers on the ground near one of the trees. She stood back up and stepped backwards towards Gendry, he looped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her up against his chest.

“Thank you Yoren..” Arya began, “Thank you for taking us from that shithole of a city. Thank you for saving my life, and for bringing me Gendry. I truly am sorry that you died, I wish we had completed our trip.. But maybe then.. Maybe Gendry and I wouldn’t be together.. So.. uh.. Sorry.”

She tilted her head up towards Gendry, inviting him to speak, “What more can I say?” he laughed, “Thank you Yoren, and sorry you died.. But thank you for Arya.”

“We’re shit at this,” Arya laughed.

“We are,” she felt him kiss the top of her head.

They stood staring down at the flowers for a few moments, her thoughts were whirring with memories of her father, of Yoren, of Lommy, of everyone she’d lost since she left Winterfell at 9.

“Hey Gen,” she said softly.

“Hm?” he responded. 

“I think I’m with child.” she whispered. 

She heard Gendry gasp and she turned in his arms.

His face flickered with emotions as she looked upon him, his mouth dropped open and his deep blue eyes were searching her face,  _ Gods she hoped their babe would inherit those eyes. _

“Say something,” she said, reaching up to lay a hand against his stubbled cheek. 

“I- you- uhh..” he stuttered.

She frowned.

“You’re.. We.. babe?” he tried again.

Arya couldn’t help but laugh lightly, “You’re not mad are you?”

“Mad?” he beamed, “I’m.. I’ve never had a family..”

“I’ve always been your family, stupid.” she responded, pressing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his lips.

“I know, just..  _ This  _ is different.” he replied before kissing her cheeks, “Are you happy about this?”

“Happy.. I..” she bit down on her lower lip, frowning in thought, “I’m.. I’m happy with you, with us.” she took his hand, pressing it lightly against her flat stomach, “I don’t really know what I feel.. What to think about this.”

“I understand,” Gendry says softly, tilting her chin up to him, “but I’m with you,  _ always. _ ”

“I know.” she nods her head, before a laugh escapes her lips.

“What is it?” Gendry asks.

“Just,” she presses her cheek against his chest, and he wraps his arms tightly around her, “if you told 9 year old me this is where I’d be, I’d have stabbed you with Needle. And if someone had said I was married and with child through choice, I would have thought them crazy.”

“But now? What is six and ten Arya going to do?” Gendry asks, caressing her cheek.

Arya searched his face, trying to figure something out, she sighed at last, “I don’t know Gen, how am I meant to have a babe?”

“We’ll figure it out,  _ together _ .” he responded passionately. 

“Together.” she says, pressing her forehead to his.

“Are we going to say anything to the others?” Gendry asked as they made their way back to the inn.

“I don’t know anything for sure.. Just.. it makes sense, and I haven’t bled since before the wedding.” she chewed at her lip.

“That was near 4 moons ago! So, we’ll just keep it between us for now?” he asked.

“Anguy followed us.” she responded quietly. 

“What? When?” Gendry looks furious.

“I noticed just after I told you I thought I was with child, I saw him retreating, I don’t know what he heard.” she explained.

When they arrived back at the inn Anguy was sitting alone at a table, Arya shared a look with Gendry before marching over to Anguy.

“What did you hear?” she says in a low voice.

“I’m sorry,” Anguy looks uncomfortable, “I shouldn’t have followed you, but Beric was worried.”

Arya cocked an eyebrow at him.

“It was a private moment, I shouldn’t have been there.” he continued.

“What did you hear?” Gendry asks, sitting down beside Anguy.

“Jus’ the two of you talkin’ to the dead man.” Anguy blushes, “It was private, I’m sorry.”

“Do you believe that’s all he heard?” Gendry asked her as they went to their room.

Arya shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Think we’re heading to the Peach next, maybe that’ll keep them all occupied.” Gendry snorted.

“You’re right,” she smiled, “might be good for us as well.”

“What do you mean?” Gendry asked, a nervous tinge to his voice.

“Tansy, she might be able to help with this,” Arya motioned towards her stomach.

“Help?” Gendry frowned.

“Not like that, no!” she gasped, “I mean, it was Tansy and Lanna who taught me about my moon blood, I wish they’d gone further now.” she rubbed her stomach. 

“Hm, me too.” Gendry smiled, before placing his hand on top of hers, “But this, Ar, I’m here whatever you need from me, I love you and you’re going to be an amazing mum. Remember Weasel? You were always good with her.”

“It’s scary.. But.. good scary..” she sighs.

“I love you.” he says, pulling her to lay on the bed beside him.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they reached Stony Sept they’d been travelling for a few weeks. They’d experienced very little trouble during this time, a few opportunists sort to raid their camp at night, but were quickly scared off once they realised the group had strength. 

“Who you gonna ask for then?” she heard Lem asking Tom.

“Tom o’ Sevens don’t need to ask for a woman Lem, you know that.” Tom responded.

Arya rolled her eyes.

“What ‘bout you then Archer?” Lem turned to Anguy.

“I’d be happy with any of them, but Alyce is something else.” Anguy smiled.

“Tansy’ll be sending you all for a bath before you get near any of her Peaches.” Arya replied to their eagerness. 

“We’ll just have to fuck ‘em in the tubs then!” Lem grinned at her.

“Idiots.” Arya muttered. 

“Yeah, well the rest of us ain’t travelling with someone we can just fuck when we want are we?” Lem responds. 

“Yes, because we’re fucking every time we dismount.” she responded dryly. 

“No, but you  _ could _ .” Lem grinned at her.

When they arrived at The Peach Tansy and some of her Peaches were waiting outside for them. Tansy’s red locks were piled up atop her head, her large breasts accentuated by the low cut green dress she wore, her hands were on her hips and she looked set for an argument.

“Good day Tansy!” Beric called out as they dismounted their horses.

“Beric,” she nodded, looking around the group.

“Do you have rooms for us?” Beric asked, politely. 

“Once the lotta you’ve washed.” she responded.

“Of course.” Beric nodded with a smile.

“Cass, Helly,” Tansy called to two of the women, “take the men down to the baths, see to their needs.”

Gendry grasped Arya’s hand.

“Just bathe, you’ll be fine.” she chuckled lightly. 

“What ‘bout you?” he asked.

“Well, I can hardly bathe with all you men can I?” she snorted.

“Don’t leave me.” he looked panicked.

“You’ll be fine.” she kissed his cheek. 

“C’mon girl, we’ve got a hot bath upstairs for you.” Tansy said to her.

She smiled at Gendry before turning to follow Tansy inside.

“What was that all about?” Tansy asked as they walked inside.

“All what?” she asked.

“You know what,” Tansy gave her a sly smile, “I saw the smith holding your hand, and you kissing his cheek.”

Arya blushed slightly, “We got married.” 

“Married?” Tansy laughed, “Oh boy! Do the others know?”

“They do..” Arya responded cautiously.

Tansy laughed a throaty chuckle, “Guessin’ they didn’t know when you did it.”

“No,” Arya answered, “Tansy, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Clothes off,” Tansy orders once they’re in the chamber.

Arya nods and begins to discard her clothing, until she’s just in her undergarments. 

“How long you been on the road this time?” Tansy asks her.

“Just a few weeks,” Arya shrugs. 

“When did the two of you marry?” Tansy asks, pouring something into the bath.

“Uh, about four moons ago.” Arya pulls her lower lip between her teeth.

“Did you sleep with him before?” Tansy asks.

“I mean, we always shared a bed, but not like that, not until we were married.” Arya replies nervously. 

“Have your bath, then we’ll take a look.” Tansy said, squeezing her hand lightly. 

“Okay,” Arya replied, her eyes drifting to the floor. 

Once Arya finished in the bath Tansy ordered her to dry off and lay down in her undergarments. 

“You think you’re with child, yeah?” Tansy asks her from the other side of the room.

Arya nods, unable to talk.

“Guess I should have talked to you ‘bout that when I told you ‘bout your moon blood.” Tansy responded, pulling up the linen shift she wore, “When’d you bleed last?”

“Before the wedding.” Arya replied, knowing what that meant, even if she didn’t really understand the whole thing.

She felt Tansy’s hands feeling her slightly raised midsection, “Have you been sick? Mood swings? Tender breasts?”

Arya nodded. 

“I’d say you’re with child.” Tansy pulled her shift back down, “It may be early enough to do somethin’ ‘bout it.”

Arya went wide eyed, her hand going to her stomach, “No.” she responded quietly but defiantly. 

“You sure? It ain’t gonna be easy this, ‘specially how you lot travel.” Tansy handed Arya some clothing.

“We’ll manage something.” Arya nods as she begins to dress herself, “Uh, Tansy, could we just keep this between us for now?”

“Of course,” Tansy smiled, “come see me if you need anythin’ else, okay?”

Arya makes her way downstairs, some of the Brotherhood are already gathered in the common room of the inn, most with women in their laps. Arya scans the room 

looking for Gendry, he’s sat in a corner looking awkward as one of the girls stands before him, obviously trying to flirt with him. 

She rolls her eyes at his discomfort and heads over to sit next to him.

“Hey,” she kisses him, “hi Lanna,” she says to the girl.

“Oh, hey.” Lanna smiles at her, “I’ll leave you two be.”

“Thank you.” Gendry responds when she leaves, “What took you so long?”

“Was talking with Tansy,” Arya replied, her hand skimming over her stomach.

“What’d she say?” he asks.

She pulls her lower lip between her lips and nods to him in confirmation to what she’d confided in him a few weeks ago. 

A small laugh left Gendry’s lips and he pulled her to his chest, engulfing her in his arms. 

“Are you happy?” he asks, his face nuzzling into her hair.

“Funnily, I am.” she allows a small laugh to bubble from her lips.

The point of the trip around the Riverlands was to check upon the people who had come to rely on the Brotherhood over the course of the war. However, Arya thought it was more and more just an excuse to visit the Peach. Each place they had stopped along the way had just been a quick check in to see how the people were faring, if there was any trouble or anything the Brotherhood could do for them. Most of the people had found some level of contentment over the past year or so, the fighting had ebbed away with the different sides mostly exchanging ravens and threats, or organised battles from time to time away from the towns. Arya knew it would not last, but it was an effect of so many deaths. 

It seemed that the women of the Peach must have had some serious issues that needed dealing with, seeing as they spent three nights there. However, it did give Arya the chance to speak with Tansy who told her all about the changes that her body was likely to go through, and warned her about the pain of childbirth, but the elation of having your babe handed over to you.

“Do you have a babe Tansy?” Arya asked her during one of their conversations. 

“Aye, I do,” she pauses, “or, well, I did.”

“Did?” Arya frowns and worries at her lip. 

“He lives in Pinkmaiden, with me mother, better for ‘im there.” Tansy responds.

“I could see if we could stop in Pinkmaiden?” Arya suggests, “It’s not really that far out of our way.”

Tansy smiles kindly at her, it’s almost a motherly smile, although Tansy cannot be any more than ten years older than her, “They’ve a proper Lord there, they don’t need the Brotherhood.”

“I know, Marq Piper is the Lord there now that his father has passed.” Arya responds, almost continuing to recount the stories of how Ser Marq Piper had been one of her Uncle Edmure’s closest companions. 

“You’re keeping up with all the news of the Riverlands Milady!” Tansy chuckles her throaty laugh.

Arya shrugs, “Somewhat.” 

“Any way, the lad is better without me, I send money for ‘is keep, Ma arranged ‘im an apprenticeship, only 8, but ‘e’s gonna ‘ave a better life!” Tansy smiles at her, “Where you off to next?”

“We’re heading for Riverrun, but I expect we’ll be stopping back off at Acorn Hall first.” Arya answers.

“Riverrun, really?” Tansy gasps.

Arya shrugs in response, knowing that Riverrun was not somewhere that the Brotherhood would normally call at.

“I go where I’m told.” Arya sighs.

“Hm, I don’t quite believe that.” Tansy smirks. 

A week or so later the Brotherhood made their way back through the gates of Acorn Hall.

“Back so soon,” Ravella smiled in the courtyard.

“You know we can’t stay away from you, My Lady.” Tom bows deeply after dismounting his horse.

Arya fights the urge to roll her eyes, before making her way over to Ravella as everyone starts to unload their horses.

“How are you doing?” Ravella reaches out to hug her.

“Good,” she smiles, “C-can I talk with you?”

Ravella pulls back and frowns at her, Arya tries to keep a smile on her face.

“Come,” Ravella sighs softly.

“Gen?” Arya motions towards him, he nods and begins to follow them.

“Now,” Ravella ushers them into seats in her personal solar, “what’s the matter?”

Arya bites her lip before her eyes drift to Gendry, then to Ravella Smallwood.

“I’m pregnant.” she says.

“You’re..” Ravella pauses, Arya thinks she can see her hiding a smile.

Gendry laughs lightly and moves to kneel at Arya’s side, where she’s seated in an armchair, he squeezes her hand.

“Yes,” Arya smiles at the woman who has been like a mother to her.

“Oh my sweet,” Ravella says, a hand to her mouth, “are you.. Happy?”

Arya looks at Gendry, she sees the love shining out of his bright blue eyes, “We’re very happy.” she responds, not breaking eye contact with her husband.

“We both are.” Gendry beams at her.

“Oh my loves,” Ravella moves towards them, they both rise and she wraps her arms around them.

“What are you going to do now?” Ravella asks, Gendry had left to sort their bags and horses.

“I don’t know.” Arya admits nervously.

“You can’t keep riding around the Riverlands whilst with child, or with a babe!” Ravella 

responds.

“I know,” Arya concedes, “we’re going to Riverrun, I guess I’ll see from there.”

“Arya,” Ravella says her name with the softness only a mother could muster, “you and Gendry, and your babe, you’ll always have a home here should you need it.”

“Thank you.” Arya smiles.

“I guess I should have spoken to you about all of this!” Ravella adds once Arya thinks the conversation is over.

“What do you mean?” Arya chuckles nervously. 

“Well, I was there when you married,” Ravella responds, “I know you were only 9 the last time you saw your mother, I should have discussed childbearing with you.”

Arya shrugs in response, “Guess it’s too late now?”

“Hm, might be worth going over it with you though.” Ravella laughs.

“Yeah, maybe.” Arya pulls her lower lip between her teeth.

“Now I take it that Beric or the others don’t know,” Ravella said as she rose to leave the room to search out Gendry.

She shakes her head in response. 

“I won’t say anything dear, although, they will find out soon enough.” Ravella answers.

“I.. We’ll find a way to tell them.. We..” Arya sighed, “Riverrun first.”


	10. Chapter 10

From Acorn Hall the Brotherhood travelled Northwest towards Riverrun. The ride was easy going and only took a few days, the closer they approached Riverrun the more people they saw crowded around holdfasts. People stayed far away not knowing if they were friend or foe. Most of the Riverlands knew the Brotherhood to be there for the small folk, but they had never really been this close to Riverrun too often, meaning the people may have heard of them, but did not know whether to actually trust them. 

“I’m not an expert on castles,” Gendry said as they saw Riverrun on the horizon, before pausing and squinting up towards the castle.

“Well, no one claimed you to be Bran the Builder.” Harwin retorted.

“Who?” Gendry snapped his head towards the Northerner. 

“One of my ancestors,” Arya reached out for his hand, “he was responsible for building many great buildings. He was said to have lived during the Age of Heroes. He built the Wall, Winterfell and it’s rumoured that he helped with building Storms End too.”

“Storms End? That ain’t in the North.” Gendry observed.

“Your geography is improving lad.” Lem laughed. 

“Starks and Baratheon’s have been.. Interacting for sometime.” Thoros added giving them both an odd look.

A look of confusion flitted across Gendry’s features, but Arya had to close her eyes to control herself.

“Anyways, what were you going to say about the castle?” Arya asks her husband, once she’s composed herself. 

“I mean..” he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “it kinda looks.. Odd?”

“Aye, it’s got 3 sides and ain’t very big isit?” Tom chortled. 

“Looks plenty big to me.” Gendry murmurs.

“My mother used to tell me stories of her home,” Arya said smiling softly, allowing her gaze to drift to the castle, “she said it’s 3 sided because it fits between 2 rivers, the Tumblestone is to the North and the Trident to the South.”

As they got closer to the castle the red sandstone walls began to look like they rose sheerly from the rivers below.

“It’s gettin’ bigger.” Gendry observed.

Arya laughed, turning to him, “The castle isn’t growing, we’re just getting closer, stupid.” 

“Well.. yeah.. I know that.. But..” Gendry stuttered, then closed off completely. 

“What is it?” Arya asks in a low voice.

“Someone is going to kill me.” Gendry replied, panic in his voice.

“I’ve told you, I’ll  _ never  _ let that happen.” she gave him a smile to reassure him.

The castle’s doors were made of a heavy red wood, with trout's carved into them. 

“You High born like to show your sigils don’t you?” Anguy asked, nudging her with his elbow.

“When’s the last time you saw me parading a direwolf?” Arya snarled at him.

Anguy held his hands up in defeat. 

“Might wanna get a stag too.” Lem chuckled.

Arya turned to glare at him, but he just snorted in response. 

They were greeted by the castle’s steward, a gaunt, grey old man.

“Welcome back Lord Beric,” the man ducked his head towards Beric, “your men may proceed to the Great Hall, we set out some food on seeing your approach.”

“Our thanks, Utherydes.” Beric replied, giving the men a nod, Arya watched as they all walked away following a page.

“Who are these two?” the steward asked, inclining his head towards Arya and Gendry.

Arya’s hood was pulled up, and of course she was dressed in men's clothing.

“These are who I’m bringing to Lord Edmure.” Beric responds.

“I was told to expect his niece.” the man looked as though he was suckling on a lemon.

Arya sighed and rolled her eyes, reaching to knock her hood back, “Are we going to my uncles or can I go to the Great Hall for food too?”

“Oh,” the man blinked, “I’m sorry My Lady. But who is he?”

“He’s with me.” Arya responded immediately, which oddly seemed to satisfy the steward enough.

“Follow me, I’ll take you to the private audience chamber, Lords Edmure and the Blackfish are expecting you, Lady Stark.” the man said as he began to walk in the same direction the rest of the Brotherhood had headed.

“Is there going to be food?” Arya asked Beric as they followed the steward.

“How would I know?” Beric responded. 

“Well, you’re going to sort some if there is none, right?” she asked him.

“Arya,” Beric sighs, but an amused smile is playing on his lips, “of course, My Lady.” 

“I’m not a Lady.” Arya bites.

“Oh no, I’m mistaken, you’re just a humble blacksmith's wife.” Beric jests.

“I _am_ right here.” Gendry mutters. 

“My Lords,” the steward enters the room, holding the door open for them to follow him into the room.

Arya glances around the room they have been brought into, it was an audience chamber above the Great Hall. It was reasonably sized and comfortably decorated, trout's leaping from each piece of blue and red furniture. A table was set out filled with a simple array of food, mostly fish based from the smell of it, Arya’s nose wrinkled slightly, but her stomach held. The next thing to catch her eye was the two men, sitting at opposite heads of the table. Arya forced herself to resist laughing at it.

The younger man had the same colouring as her mother, Robb, Sansa, Bran and Rickon, his hair a deep auburn and his beard fiery red, his eyes too were a familiar deep blue. The elder man sat at the opposite end of the table, he was leaner than the younger man, his hair was grey and his face was clean shaven and weathered, Arya liked the look of him.

“Utherydes, you may leave us.” the younger man ordered, Arya doesn’t think he sounds entirely commanding. 

Once the steward had left, Beric stepped forward towards the table, “My Lords,” he greeted, “may I introduce Lady Arya Stark and Ser Gendry..”

“Stark.” Arya finishes for him.

Beric turns to look at her.

“Or should _I_ drop the Stark?” she challenges, quietly, "Just Arya?".

Their hushed argument is interrupted when the older man clears his throat. “Lady Arya and Ser Gendry, please, be seated.” 

Arya moves to sit in the chair closer to the older man, Gendry taking the chair next to her, she twists in her seat to look at Beric, “You not staying?”

“Lord Beric, please, do join us,” the younger man motioned to the seats opposite Arya and Gendry, “I’m sure my uncle didn’t mean to forget you.”

The older man snorts, “Of course not, My Lord.”

“I’m sure you’re hungry after your ride, help yourself to some food.” the younger lord motioned towards the table.

“My thanks,” Arya smiled at him, reaching for a roll. 

“You should try the trout, it was your mother's favourite.” the younger man said pointing to one of the plates.

Arya studied the dish carefully, but shook her head in the end, instead reaching for some cheese. 

“I swear that’s all you eat lately, bread and cheese.” Beric shakes his head at her, helping himself to the array of fish dishes.

Arya shrugs in response.

“Are you not hungry Ser?” the older man asks, noticing that Gendry hadn’t taken any food.

“Idiot.” Arya rolls her eyes, before putting together a plate and placing it in front of Gendry.

“Thank you.” he muttered in response. 

“I would say that you should always share bread and salt with your hosts Gendry, but it’s not even so these days.” Arya idly notes, taking a second roll. 

“So,” Arya spoke after a while when the silence had grown irritating to her, “why am I here?”

The younger Lord cleared his throat, as though to talk, but nothing came out.

“Sorry,” Arya spoke instead, “just to confirm, you are Lord Edmure, my mother's brother, yes?” 

“I am.” he nodded, “Please, call me uncle.” 

Arya turned to the second man, “And you are Lord Brynden, my mother's favourite uncle.”

“I am.” he smirked, “You can call me whatever you like.”

Arya nodded, turning back to Lord Edmure, “You were about to tell me why I am here.”

“Well.. you’re… you’re family..” the man almost stuttered. 

Arya nodded, “Family. Duty. Honour.” 

“Yes,” Lord Edmure nods, “we want you to be safe. The Brotherhood seem to have looked after you, but you would be better off here, with family. I could.. Arrange.. A marriage.. For you?”

Arya pulled her lower lip between her teeth, trying to formulate a response.

The Blackfish snorted, Arya turned towards him, raising an eyebrow to prompt him to speak.

“I apologise, My Lady,” the Blackfish said.

“Arya.” she added.

“Arya,” he nodded, “it’s just your mother spoke about you, when she was here whilst your brother was at war.”

Arya laughed, “I can only imagine what she said.” 

“That you’re a huge pain in the rear?” Gendry added, before flushing, “I’m sorry Milord’s, I forgot myself.” 

“Ah, well you’re not too far off Ser.” the Blackfish smiled, Arya watched as Gendry  forced himself to return the smile.

“I’m sure.. We could still.. Find you a husband..” Edmure tried again.

Arya’s eyes met Gendry’s, she could see the panic in his stormy blue eyes.

“Don’t think that’ll be needed, nephew.” the Blackfish chuckled. 

“No,” Arya responded, reaching for Gendry’s hand.

She dropped her voice to speak to Gendry, “I chose you. I will _always_ choose you.”

“I know.” he responded, squeezing her hand.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Edmure asks. 

Beric’s sigh forces Arya to break her gaze from Gendry, “When I was meeting with you both last time, they got married.” 

“Married?” Edmure flushed angrily, jumping up from his seat, “Who are you Ser?”

“I- I’m no one.” Gendry responded, fixing his eyes to the table before him.

“A no one who looks like a stag.” the Blackfish responded. 

“Who is your family, boy?” Edmure asks.

Gendry’s eyes skitter around in panic.

“Me.” Arya responds, rising from the table, “I’m his family and he is mine, nothing else matters.”

“Arya,” Beric warns her.

“No,” Arya replies, “look, I’ve been through hell and back the last 7 years, the only constant I’ve had in that time is Gendry. I love him, I took him as my husband, I won’t hear anything against it. I shan't be staying, I’ll be going wherever it is that my husband is going.”

The atmosphere in the room was charged for a few moments, Arya could feel her blood rushing through her body, she settled back into her chair and concentrated on her breathing.

“Your mother thought you’d never marry.” the Blackfish responds, amusement clouding his voice.

“When I was 9, I swore I’d never marry.” Arya answered, “But what I meant was.. I didn’t want to be forced into marriage with some old Lord who wanted me to birth him heirs. I’ve grown and changed a lot between 9 and 16. I chose to marry the only man I could ever trust, he doesn’t expect me to give him heirs, I’m giving that willingly.”

She thought her slip had gone unnoticed, but the Blackfish gave her a lingering look, which hinted that he suspected something. 

“Well, we’re not selling her off to some old Lord,” the Blackfish jests, “now how about telling her why we wanted to speak with her.”

Arya snorted, appreciating the bluntness of the older man.

“Your sister,” Edmure clears his throat, pausing once more.

“Do you want to sell her hand off too?” Arya asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Wh-what? No.. I.. we..” Edmure frowned.

“I’ll speak, nephew. Your sister has taken back Winterfell in a battle against the Boltons.” the Blackfish said.

“With who?” Arya asked.

“The Knights of the Vale and Petyr Baelish came for her.” the Blackfish pulls a face which Arya echoes, “But also, the men from the Night's Watch and Stannis Baratheon’s men.” 

“What an odd combination.” Arya frowned, “The Night’s Watch are not meant to get involved in the realms of men.” 

“Something has changed. What, I do not know. I’m thinking of travelling North, to Winterfell, to find out.” the Blackfish explained.

“We’re coming with you.” Gendry answers for them, after Arya squeezes his hand.

“Are you sure? It’s a hard ride.” he responded, eying Arya wearily. 

“The Brotherhood will also come, we’re all used to hard rides.” Beric adds.

“See,” Arya scowls at Beric, “I told you that you don’t really see us as a part of the Brotherhood.” 

“Arya,” Beric sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “of course you’re a part of the Brotherhood, I swear they listen to your orders more than mine!” 

“Hardly.” she muttered.

“Do you think your brother will be there?” Gendry asks her as she lays atop his chest whilst they’re in bed that night, his fingers tracing the slight swell of her stomach.

“I don’t know..” she replied, “I’m confused that the Night’s Watch are there at all.. It doesn’t make sense.” 

“We’ll find out soon enough.” he responded, tangling his fingers through her hair. 

“I guess,” she replied, her voice hardly more than a whisper. 

“Hey Ar,” Gendry asks, rubbing her back softly, “two people mentioned stags today, what does that mean?”

Arya twisted her head to look at her husband, she repositioned herself, moving to straddle his hips. She looked down at him, taking in his thick coal black hair, his bright blue eyes and his chiseled jaw.

“Have you ever given much thought to who your father is?” Arya sighed.

“Not really,” he answered immediately, “what difference would it make?”

She took his hands, placing them on her stomach. 

“Did you ever see King Robert?” Arya asked, as Gendy’s calloused hands carefully moved across her body.

“I saw him at tourneys, I think.. Once he nearly ran me down in the streets when I was playing.” he answered, looking pained. 

“What does he look like?” Arya asks cautiously.

“Well a rotting corpse, I should think.” he retorted.

“Funny.” she deadpaned.

“He had a beard, he was fat and always drunk. His hair was dark, I think he had blue eyes?” he answered.

Arya fixed Gendy with a look.

“Ar, plenty o’ people have blue eyes. Both your uncles do. Don’t make them my father.” Gendry protests.

“Gendry,” Arya tried to soothe him, laying a hand against his chest, “I knew the man, I met his brothers.. You’re a Baratheon. I was never entirely sure of it, and it never mattered to me, but other people are noticing.”

“He was a fat, drunken sot!” Gendry closed his eyes, his face screwing up.

“You’re right, but you are everything he is not. People say he had a bastard in every kingdom.” Arya noted.

“I don’t want to think about that.” Gendry sighed.

“None of it matters to me, Gen, you are who you are, you’re  _ my _ Gendry, that’s  _ all _ I need.” Arya lent forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“And you are my Arya,” he kisseed her cheek, “you and our babe are all I need.”

“Did you  _ have  _ to antagonise your uncles yesterday?” Beric asks as she and Gendry sit at breakfast.

Arya cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, “Yes, I did.”

“Why?” he asked, hanging his head in his hands.

“I needed to see their worth.” she shrugged, taking a slice of bread, “Hand me some bacon.”

“Really?” Beric asked.

“About their worth, or the bacon?” she frowns, nibbling the edge of the meat to test her stomach. 

“Well, I meant your uncles.  _ But _ , now we’re on the subject, I haven’t seen you eat anything like that in ages.” Beric responds.

“I’d never met the Blackfish, and I was very small when I met Lord Edmure.” she responded, “I needed to assess who they were.”

“And who are they?” Beric sighs. 

“Dunno yet,” Arya replies, taking a bite out of the bacon and bread, “how long are we going to be here?”

Beric’s eyes snap up immediately at her question, “Arya..”

“You’re leaving us again?” she cried.

“Just for.. A couple of weeks, a moon at most.” he responds.

“Why? Where are you going? Why can’t we come?” she asked her questions in a quick succession. 

“There was a raven from Ravella, she knew we were coming here, we need to go to the Hollow Hill.” Beric responds.

“And why can we not come?” Arya asks sternly, rising from the table, hands on her hips.

“You need to stay and get to know the Tully’s, make sure that we can trust them, and find out anything about the North. They may have information they withheld from us.” Beric explained. 

“This is ridiculous!” Arya protested, “Why must you always treat me like I am a child?” 

“Ar,” Gendry reaches out to take her hand, to tug her back into her seat.

“I have just told you the reason I need you to stay,” Beric replies, his voice softer than before. 

Arya grits her teeth, “Fine.” she mutters. 

“You realise the longer we stay here the harder it will be to travel?” Gendry says to her in a low voice as she led them towards the Godswood.

“I know,” she responds, her hand going to her stomach.

“We’re going to have to tell them by the time they return, before long.. It’ll become hard to hide.” Gendry looped his arms around her, his hand lightly caressing their babe inside of her.

“I know,” she echoed, “but they’ll.. They probably won’t let us travel with them.”

“Maybe we should head back to Acorn Hall? Stay until after the babe is born?” Gendry suggested.

“No!” she argued, “I need to go, I need to get to Winterfell!” 

“Arry!” he groaned, rubbing a hand across his face.

“I know Gen, I know,” she pulled his hands from his face, “it’s dangerous, I know it is, but.. I need it.. I need to.. Winterfell..”

Gendry meets her eyes, “Winterfell.” he agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a forewarning, I may not carry on updating once a week. I've started working more this week, and hopefully will be from now on, meaning less time to write. I have a few more chapters ready to go, but I may move to less frequent updates. BUT, be reassured, this will continue!


	11. Chapter 11

“Is there a Raven I can send to Acorn Hall?” Arya asks the Maester. 

“Certainly,” the Maester responded, “have you got a letter?”

“Here,” Arya said, handing over her already sealed letter to Ravella Smallwood, “thank you.”

“Been making friends with the Ladies of the Riverlands have you niece?” the Blackfish asks her, following her down the steps from the rookery. 

“Oh yes, nothing more than I like than sitting around knitting beside the hearth with Ladies.” Arya answered sarcastically. 

The Blackfish chortled lightly, “I’ve been watching you in the yard, sparring with your husband.”

“Not the best with a sword,” Arya responds, “but you should see him with a hammer.” 

“What is going on with the two of you?” the Blackfish asks.

“What do you mean?” she pauses, cocking her head to the side. 

“Well, Edmure thinks it’s very improper.” the Blackfish answers.

“Improper?” she raises an eyebrow, “How can it be improper, we’re married. Besides I asked what _you_ meant, not about Edmure.”

“I think that the two of you are in love, and that is what matters.” the Blackfish answers.

“Truly?” she asks.

“Truly,” he reaches out and grasps her hands, “your mother said you were different, I was different too.”

“Hence the Blackfish,” she gave him a wry smile. 

“Indeed.” he laughed, “Although, I must admit, this is all far more different than I was expecting.”

“Never expected any of it myself to be honest.” she smiled sadly, “I once asked my father if I could be a knight when I grew up, he told me that I’d marry a Lord and maybe my sons would be knights. I told him that wasn’t me.”

“Well, it looks like you’ll get it all, Little Wolf.” the Blackfish smiled at her. 

She shook her head and smiled in reply, “Gendry’s no Lord.”

“He may well be yet.” he sighed.

“Please, uncle,” she rubbed her forehead lightly, “don’t mention that to Gendry.”

“Lady Arya,” Edmure was walking swiftly after her, she tried to increase her pace as she rounded a corner to escape him, but her legs were too short to do this and remain casual, he easily caught up to her. 

“Lady Arya, I was calling after you!” Edmure said stepping in front of her, attempting to stop her.

“Oh, I am sorry Uncle, I didn’t hear.” she lied.

“No worries, you’ve been here a few days now, my wife wanted me to invite you to have tea in her solar,” he responded. 

“I um.. Uh..” she racked her brain for some kind of excuse, “sure, I’m not busy.”

“Brilliant, Roslin will be pleased, let me escort you.” he responded, holding his arm out.

Arya ground her teeth, but took his arm allowing him to guide her.

“It’s unusual to see you without Ser Gendry, where is he?” he asked.

“He’s in the forge.” she answered.

“Does he spend much time there?” Edmure asked as they walked. 

“Well, my husband is happy in one of two locations, the forge being one of them.” she responded, half expecting Anguy to jump out and tell her uncle that the other place was between Arya’s thighs.

“It’s good to see you’re putting on some weight, I expect you’ve hardly had enough to eat these past few years.” Edmure said as they began to climb the stairs.

“Yeah,” Arya laughed softly, “it’s nice to have a full meal for once!” 

She did expect that the extra food would be doing the babe good. She was truly starting to dread getting back on to the road, maybe Gendry was right, maybe they should head back to Acorn Hall until the babe came.

“Here we are,” Edmure pushed open a door to reveal a cosy solar, Lady Roslin was sat before the hearth, her babe snoozing in her arms.

Arya couldn’t control the smile that pulled at her lips when her eyes landed on the babe. 

“Oh, Lady Arya, I’m glad you came.” Roslin beamed, standing to greet her.

“Well, I’ll leave you Ladies be.” Edmure said before leaving the room.

“Come, sit.” Roslin ushered her to the seats near the fire.

Arya sat uncomfortably, feeling the pressure of her aunts gaze upon her.

“The maids will bring some cakes and tea soon,” Roslin gave her a smile, “mayhaps we could get to know one another.”

“Um, okay.” Arya answers cautiously, chewing on her lower lip.

“Your outfits are always.. So..” she paused, “comfortable?” 

“They’re practical, make it easier to travel in.” Arya answers.

“I should imagine so,” Roslin nods, “I could, would never,”

“Most women wouldn’t.” she laughed.

“No, but you do not seem like most women.” Roslin smiled. 

The maids brought in an array of cakes and biscuits with tea for them.

Arya found the sweet cakes far more appealing than most things she had eaten in a long time.

“Would you like to hold him?”

“I.. I.. what if I drop him?” she asked nervously. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Roslin transferred Hoster over into her arms.

The babe settled into Arya’s arms easily, his pale blue eyes flickering up to her.

“Hey baby,” Arya cooed down at the baby, she could feel a warmth building in the corners of her eyes, and she fought to control herself, fighting to hold the tears inside of her.


	12. Chapter 12

“I think Roslin knows.” Arya says as they’re laid in bed, Gendry’s chin resting on her hip, pressing kisses to the swell of her stomach.

“Maybe we should tell your uncles?” he suggests in response. 

“They’ll stop us.” Arya protests, shifting to sit up.

“It might be safer,” he argues lightly, “for you  _ and  _ for our babe.” 

“I know.” she concedes, “ _ But,  _ it wont be dangerous for us to travel. We’ll be fine, promise.” she takes his hands in hers, softly squeezing his large calloused hands. 

“Lady Arya!” she hears Edmure gasp, she rolls her eyes finishing the sequence of steps she was already part way through, before sheafing Needle back at her hip.

She inhaled to compose herself before turning to face her uncle.

As expected, his face was screwed up in a contortion of confusion and anger. 

“Uncle?” she asked.

“What _are_ you doing?” Edmure asked, his eyes taking in every part of her.

“Waterdancing.” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What? Why do you even have a sword? Where did you get it?” he fired questions in quick succession. 

“Waterdancing,” she shrugged, unsheathing Needle, to demonstrate, “it’s a sword fighting style from Bravos. Father hired me a Bavosi instructor when we moved to Kings Landing. It’s a style which focuses on skill, rather than brute strength. Far more suited to my size. As for the sword,” she paused her movements, balancing Needle on the middle finger of her left hand, displaying it to Edmure, “my brother, Jon, had it made for me before he left for the Wall.”

“Half brother.” Edmure grunted.

Arya shrugged, half, full, what did it matter? Jon was family either way, Jon was pack. “And to as why I have it? Well, Jon knew I hated sitting, sewing, singing and whatnot. I used to steal away from my lessons with Sansa and Septa Mordane, I couldn’t understand why it was fine for Bran to play at swords and archery, yet it was denied to me. Jon understood that feeling, he once said to me,  _ ‘Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms.’  _ I never understood it, clearly Jon saw it as being as much shit as I did.”

“Lady Arya.” Edmure gasped.

“Yes uncle?” she smiled.

“This is all.. rather.. improper.” Edmure shook his head.

“I’ve been on the road with outlaws since I was about one and three, before that I was held hostage, then before that I was with rappers and thieves headed for the wall! Proprietary went out of the window a long time ago, uncle!” her voice was rising along with her temper. 

“And what does your husband have to say to all this?” Edmure asked, she could tell he was trying to maintain his composure.

“I dunno, maybe you should ask him?” she cocked an eyebrow in challenge, “I think he’s quite pleased if I’m honest. He likes making swords, I like using swords. It's kinda perfect isn't it.”

“I- I-” Edmure stuttered. 

“Shall I go fetch Milord husband?” she asked sarcastically. 

“He’s not a Lord.” Edmure scolded.

“Thank the Gods!” Arya sighed, “Did you still need him? Did you need to talk manly things, work out some punishment for my.. Improper ways?”

Edmure stared at her, wide eyed, looking as though he was searching for a coherent argument. 

“Hm, well, I think I’ll be off to rest for a while then.” Arya shrugged when her uncle was unable to speak.

“I hear you’ve been antagonising my nephew again?” the Blackfish says with an amused tone as he took a seat opposite her in the library.

She finishes her page before laying a sheat of parchment between the pages and pacing the book on the table.

“He deserved it.” she responded, “He’s always talking about propriety and stuff.” 

“Aye, well even when the lad was a hostage, he was a proper hostage, high born and all that.” the Blackfish responded.

“Uncle,” Arya said in a measured tone, “these days, I have more in common with the small folk than the nobility. I’m content to be a blacksmiths wife, and have my children to grow up to be smiths like their father.”

“Now, we both know that is not true.” the Blackfish smirked.  “That babe of yours,” he nodded towards her, “is never going to be,  _ just _ a smith. Just like your husband is not  _ just  _ a smith.”

She lifted her head, arching her right eyebrow.

“You’re not as skilled at deception as you think you are Arya.” the Blackfish gives her a small smile. 

She falters momentarily, before regaining her composure, “Whatever do you mean uncle?”

The Blackfish considers her for a moment, “Your secret is safe with me girl, I have your back.”

“Thank you uncle,” she smiled, before picking her book back up.

“How are my loves?” Gendry beamed, walking into their chambers.

“You’re happy.” she answered suspiciously. 

“What cause have I to not be happy?” he beamed. 

“I’m tired.” she sighed. 

“No doubt from your.. toying with your uncle.” he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Well, he deserved it.” she snorted.

“No doubt, but you do like to tease.” he responded stepping towards her. 

“What can I say?” she shruged.

“You’re meant to be measuring their worth.” Gendry reminded her.

“I am.” she said slowly, “The Blackfish, he can be trusted. Edmure, I’m hesitant about.”

“You don’t think you can trust him?” Gendry asked, coming to sit beside her on their bed, “He’s your mother's brother.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” Arya said, “but, he’s set in a certain way.”

“How so?” he asked.

“He thinks everything I’m doing is improper.” she huffed.

Gendry gasped, “My love, you  _ are _ entirely improper.” 

“That is beside the point, husband.” she chuckled, and he placed his hands on her waist to lift her up into his lap.

He uses his right hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand then travelling down her neck and arm, to rest on her stomach.

“He thinks he can change me, he thinks I should be this proper little Lady. And that’s not me. Gendry, that’s never been me.” she protested.

“I know Arry,” he kissed the crown of her head, “you know I’d never ask for you to be anyone but you.”

“I know, love.” she turned her head to kiss his jaw, “But it’s everyone else's deferral of,  _ well what does your husband think?  _ Is that all I’m worth?”

“Do you know what your husband thinks?” he asked, tilting her chin upwards, “I think that you can be whoever  _ you  _ want to be, I think you can do whatever  _ you  _ want. All of that, so long as I get to be by your side, my love.”

“I love you,” she said, twisting her body to straddle his lap.

“And I you.” he smiled at her, before she leant forward to press her lips to his.

“It all seems very strange to me.” Edmure said, a sour look on his face.

“Edmure, please just try.” Roslin gave her husband a small smile.

“It’s not right,” he insists, “it’s not how a Lady should act.”

“Cat said she was different.” the Blackfish shrugged.

“Different is one word for it.” Edmure muttered.

“She’s a good girl.” the Blackfish argued.

“She..” Edmure rubbed a hand across his face, “When I look at her, I just think what would Cat be thinking right now?”

“She’s happy, healthy and alive, I’m sure her mother would have been taking solace from that.” Roslin tried to reassure her husband. 

“You hardly knew my sister.” Edmure said between clenched teeth.

“She didn’t, but I knew Cat, and I think she’d be happy.” the Blackfish punctuated his statement by bringing his fist down on the table, “It’s clearly not what Cat would have chosen for her daughter, but frankly, she never expected the girl to marry. But she has, and she’s happy, she is ensuring the survival of House Stark!” 

“What does that mean?” Edmure pulled a face. 

The Blackfish shook his head and Lady Roslin hid a smile.

“Cat would be fuming,” Edmure continued on, “the boy is a bastard! You know how she felt about Eddard’s bastard!”

“From what I understand, Arya was rather fond of Jon.” the Blackfish snorts.

“Seems she’s always been improper.” Edmure muttered.

“Edmure,” the Blackfish sighed, “we’ve been at war for years, things may have settled a bit lately, but the war is still raging. We’ve all lost many family members, we need to hold tightly to the ones who are left. Propriety should not be at the foremost of our concerns right now, there are bigger things at stake!”

“Have you even tried to get to know her?” the Blackfish asked once Roslin had left them to go tend to Hoster.

“Well.. not really.” Edmure frowned.

“Talk with her,” his uncle responded, “ask her about her interests, talk to her as though she were your nephew rather than your niece. I think you will be surprised.”

“I’ll try.” Edmure nodded.

“Good, and maybe you could help Gendry out? Talk to him about being a Lord and whatnot?” the Blackfish suggested, boldly.

“You go too far, uncle!” Edmure bristled, “I’ll speak with the boy, but he’s an up-jumped knight at best, he’ll never be a Lord.”

“Mayhaps not, but his sons most likely will be.” the Blackfish drained his ale.

“You think she’s going to have sons?” Edmure laughs, “She wears breeches!” 

“Son,” the Blackfish stood, laying a hand on his nephew's shoulder, “a Lady wears nothing at all when a child is gotten on her.” 

“Did you say something to Edmure?” Arya asked the Blackfish as he escorts her on a ride outside of Riverrun.

“What do you mean?” he responded.

“The past week, he seems..” she paused for thought, “the word propriety has been thrown around far less frequently.”

The Blackfish threw his head back and chuckled, “I told him to make an effort with you, to ask about your interests. To think of you as his nephew rather than his niece.” 

“Uncle, I am a woman,” she responded, “just because I carry a sword and wear breeches, it doesn’t make me any less of a woman.”

“I am aware of that.” he replied, his eyes drifting to her stomach, “Do you still plan to travel North?”

She nodded, “We do.”

“It’s going to be uncomfortable,” he warned.

“I’m aware.” she bit back.

He nodded in acceptance, “I think you may need to tell Edmure soon.”

“Or I could acquire some looser fitting clothes.” she responded.

“How about both?” the Blackfish suggested, “You’ll need something to grow in whilst we’re on the road.”

“Guess I’d best see the seamstress then?” she asked, dejected.

“Argh!” she groaned as she pulled on her breeches.

“What is it?” Gendry asked, shooting out of their bed, a worried look creasing his brow.

“My clothes hardly fit!” she moaned.

“Fuck Arry,” he sighed, “I thought it was something serious, I thought there was something wrong with the babe.”

“The babe is fine! The problem is me, I’m fat!” she sighed.

Gendry chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind, rubbing his hands over her bump, “You’re not fat, you’re pregnant!” 

She rolled her eyes, then tilted her head upwards to kiss him upside down, it’s awkward but makes her smile all the same.

“I think I’m going to have to tell Edmure.” she huffed, “I can’t hide this, and my new clothes aren’t done yet.”

“To be fair, Edmure must either be blind or stupid, because I think most of the castle know that you’re with child!” Gendry laughed, kissing the back of her neck.

She chuckled in response and Gendry pulled the two of them gently onto the bed, his hand still running over her stomach, under her shirt, his hand freezing when she gasped.

“Did you feel that?” she asked, twisting her face towards him.

“No?” he frowned, “What was it?”

“I- I don’t know..” she said cautiously, waiting for another feeling, “It kinda felt.. Fluttery.. Like a tiny birds wings in my stomach.”

“Is that normal?” Gendry asked.

“How would I know!” she laughed.

“Maybe we should ask someone?” he suggested, looking concerned.

“I think it’s fine, it felt.. Good?” she replied.

“I think you should ask Roslin, or one of the maids?” Gendry insisted.

“Gendry,” she said lightly.

“Just to be sure..” he responded in a soft tone, his lips pressed to her neck, “and, I think we should have the Maester examine you before we leave.”

“You fuss too much!” she laughed.

“I know,” she felt him smile against her neck, “I just worry, I want the two of you to be healthy. Please Arya?”

She sighed, “Okay, for  _ you _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that the word propriety was thrown around far too much here.


	13. Chapter 13

“You’re what?” Edmure gasps, leaping to his feet.

Everyone else is still sitting around the table, completely unphased. 

“I’m with child.” Arya repeats. 

“What? How? What?” Edmure stammers. 

“I didn’t think it was a difficult concept uncle,” she cocks an eyebrow, “especially seeing as you _are_ a father.”

“I understand the concept,” Edmure growls, leaning over the table, “just..”

“Just what?” she asks.

“Are you sure you’re pregnant?” Edmure frowns.

“Well, I suppose I could just be fat.” she responds, tilting her head to the side.

Gendry snorts before explaining, “The Maester examined her.”

“Also Arya and I have discussed it,” Roslin responds, “I’ve given her some advice and whatnot.” 

“Thank you.” Arya gives her a small smile.

Edmure calms enough to settle back into his seat, but his face is still contorted in confusion, and anger. 

Once they finish their dinner Edmure clears his throat.

“I think you should stay here.” he says boldly, making eye contact with her.

She arches an eyebrow in response, but slightly impressed by his boldness.

“When the Brotherhood come back,” he goes on to explain, “I don’t think you should leave with them.”

Arya smirks at her uncle, “What’s the likelihood of that happening?”

“But it’ll be-” Edmure argued.

“Dangerous?” Arya offers.

“Well, yes! It was already going to be dangerous, but now.. Arya, I don’t think you should be travelling.” Edmure explains. 

“I’ve spoken to Maester Roone, he thinks as long as I’m careful, we’ll be fine.” she explains, caressing her expanding stomach.

“Besides, she’ll have me and Gendry looking out for her.” the Blackfish explains.

“Well, she should at least travel by carriage!” Edmure says in an alarmingly booming voice.

“Well that’s a sure fire way to get waylaid by bandits!” Arya protested.

“He’s ridiculous!” Arya argued, pacing back and forth before their bed wearing a thin bed-gown.

“Arry, calm down,” Gendry said soothingly from their bed, his cock straining in his breeches watching his wife pace back and forth, the light gown serving to highlight her swollen stomach and breasts. 

“Take a carriage,” she muttered, running her hands through her hair, “a carriage!” 

“I know love, ridiculous.” he sighed, “Come to bed, before you wear a hole in the floorboards.” 

She turned sharply to face him, glaring at him. 

“Arry,” he said softly.

Her defences fell immediately as she crawled her way up the bed.

“We’ll be fine.” he slid his hand under her nightgown, running his hand across her stomach, “I know I’m the one who keeps saying it’ll be dangerous, but I know you wouldn’t risk the journey if you thought there was any kind of trouble.”

“I wouldn’t.” she confirmed.

“Mamma and I love you little one,” he said softly, dipping his mouth down to her stomach, “we’ll do everything to protect you, especially your mamma, because your mamma is the strongest, bravest, most amazing woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Only in the Seven Kingdoms?” Arya mockingly gasped. 

Gendry laughed against her stomach, to which she lightly clipped him across the back of the head, reducing the two of them to fits of laughter.

“Ar!” Gendry gasped, lifting his head from her stomach, his bright blue eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open. 

“Hey, you like daddy laughing do you little one?” Arya asked looking down at her stomach, their hands entwining over her bump.

“It’s really moving,” he grinned, “it suddenly feels so real!” 

Arya snorted, “Mate, it’s been feeling real these past 4 months for me!”

“Do you think they’ll be much longer?” she asked, pressing her lips into Gendry’s bicep.

“I hope not, I want to get moving now.” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

“Gen,” she said, moving to prop herself up on her left elbow, concern straining her voice, “what if.. I dunno, what if Sansa doesn’t accept me? Don't accept us? The babe?”

“Ar,” he tried to soothe her, rubbing circles into her back, “you’ve got me, whether your sister wants us or not, we’ll sort something.”

“I know Gen, I do. But.. it’s going to take weeks, if not moons to get to Winterfell, time is already against us.” she reasons, “What happens if we make it all the way there and she shuns us? What if she doesn’t want to know me? What if she’s ashamed or whatever?”

“Arry,” he captures her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, gently positioning her so that their eyes meet, “if that happens, I’ll sort something, we’ll travel to an inn, we can stay there, I’ll take work as a smith, I’ll do whatever I have to Arya, anything for you and our babe.”

She licks her lips, worry still bubbling within her, her eyes scanning Gendry’s, “I know you would.. I just..” she sighed.

“I know, love.” he responded pressing his forehead against hers, “I love you, and I’m sure your sister will be more than happy to see you.”

“You don’t know her Gendry.” she frowned, settling down onto the bed so that she was laying down, Gendry tucked himself behind her, shaping his body to fit hers. He brushed her hair out of the way, pressing kisses to the back of her neck whilst caressing her stomach. 

“You never talk too much about her,” he said softly, prompting her, “I feel like I know Jon and Bran, even Robb and Rickon, but not Sansa.”

“Sansa was my only sister. Father once said we were as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flowed through both of our veins. Sansa was older than me, I think she wanted a sister that would be like her, someone to sit beside her, sewing, singing and being a proper little lady. But that was never me! My Septa called me wild and wilful, she said I had the hands of a blacksmith!” Arya spoke, her voice almost sounded haunted.

“Well, you do have the hands of a blacksmith,” Gendry teased, sliding his hand from her stomach to give her hip a light squeeze, “although, maybe not the way your Septa meant.”

“Oh,” Arya chuckled, “Septa Mordane is rolling in whatever grave the Lannisters tossed her in even knowing I’m in the same room as you Mr Blacksmith!” 

When Gendry’s hand moved back to her stomach she continued, “Father used to say that summer was the time for squabbles, but as we always say, Winter is Coming, and in winter, we must protect one another. It seems a shame he didn’t tell Sansa this. She betrayed him, betrayed us. Luckily I was with Syrio the day they arrested my father, I was able to escape. But we wouldn’t have needed to if Sansa hadn’t told the Lannisters we were leaving. When we were in Winterfell, Sansa’s friend Jeyne would call me Arya Horseface, she’d neigh every time she came near me, much to Sansa’s amusement. It seemed that even when I attempted to make an effort with Sansa Jeyne was there to turn her against me.”

“You don’t look a thing like a horse,” Gendry said softly. 

Arya sniffles, “Yeah, well I didn’t know that when I was 9, did I?”

“You are beautiful Arya, you are the most beautiful woman alive.” Gendry says passionately. 

“Yes, because you are not at all biased are you?” she chuckles as a tear tracks its ways down her cheek.

“I always struggled with the whole notion of my life having been preordained, whereas that was something Sansa willingly embraced.” she continued, “Bran wanted to be a knight of the kingsguard when we were kids, after his accident father told me that Bran could still be a Lord and sit on the King’s Council, or be the next Brandon the Builder, or mayhaps he could sail across the Sunset Sea, I asked if I could also do these things. But my father told me that I would marry a king and rule his castle, my sons would be knights and princes and lords. I did not understand that! I was 9, Bran was 7, why should he be afforded those opportunities but not me!” 

She shifted in the bed, turning to face her husband, “Promise me Gendry, promise me..”

“Anything my love.” he pressed his lips softly to hers.

“Promise me, whether our babe is a boy or a girl, we will treat them the same. The eldest is our heir, whatever that is to. I don’t want to break my daughters heart by telling her she can’t be whatever her heart wants her to be.” she pleaded.

“Of course,” he smiled at her. 

“I love you,” she smiled back at him, her voice soft as silk, “my father.. I loved my father.. He gave me freedoms most Lords would never consider for their daughters, and yet, it still wasn’t enough for me. Mayhaps I was being selfish, wanting even more.. He said I had  _ the wolf blood,  _ his sister Lyanna had a touch of it, and his elder brother Brandon even more so. He told me Lyanna would have carried a sword if her father had allowed her.”

“You sound like you have a lot in common with her.” Gendry replied.

“Have you heard anything about Lyanna Stark?” she asked him, softly. 

Gendry shook his head in decent. 

“Father said she was beautiful and wilful,” she could see a twinkle in her husband’s eyes, she inhaled before saying the next part, “and dead before her time.”

“What happened?” Gendry gasped.

“For certain, I do not know. I honestly do not know that anyone truly knows. Prince Rhaegar is said to have kidnapped her and raped her.. She was betrothed to Robert  Baratheon.” she paused, Gendry’s breathing increased and his brow furrowed, “Some say Rhaegar loved Lyanna, and took her with her consent, others argue it was to slight Robert. Either way, Robert started a war over it. I mean, it’s far more complicated than that, my uncle Brandon and grandfather Rickard were both slain by the Mad King, along with many others. Either way, father and 6 of his companions made their way to rescue her; she was imprisoned in the Tower of Joy in Dorne. There was a battle, my father and his friend Howland Reed were the only survivors. Lyanna was 16, and died in that tower. Father brought her bones back from war, he buried her in the family crypts with her father and brother, he had her likeness carved. All of that was usually reserved only for the Lord of Winterfell. Father used to take flowers to lay at her statute quite often, Winter Roses were her favourites, and ironically they were what started the whole affair when Prince Rhaegar laid a crown of Winter Roses on her lap, declaring her his Queen of Love and Beauty, over his wife.”

“That’s sad.” he responded, concern burning in his eyes. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

“How do you think she died?” he asked.

“The exact same way you’re thinking.” she replied grimly. 

“Arya,” Gendry said softly.

“I will be fine.” she insisted, feeling a lump forming at the bottom of her throat.

Gendry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against his wife's once more, wishing against all odds that he could give her all of his strength. 

Around a week later, Arya was sitting behind the table in the small council chamber of Riverrun, her arms crossed below her breasts in an attempt to conceal her now evident bump. In all honesty her arms were concealing very little, but the men of the Brotherhood Without Banners were not always the most observant, especially when it came to her.

“Arya,” Beric said her name with a tenseness to his tone, she couldn’t help but wonder where he’d start.

She inclined her head towards him when he didn’t continue.

“How.. are you?” he asked tensely. 

“Fine,” she responded with a smirk.

“The others.. Will be joining us shortly.” he said, almost hesitantly.

“Okay.” she nodded.

“You’ve certainly made an impression around here.” Beric raised his eyebrows at her.

She snorted in reply, “Who have you been talking to?”

“Both of your Uncles, and the Maester.” Beric responded.

_ Oh shit,  _ she thought immediately, but said nothing aloud. 

“Oh, and Ravella sent a parcel along for you.” Beric gave her a smile.

“Really?” she asked quizzically. 

“Don’t know what it is, so don’t ask, your aunt sent it up to your chambers.” Beric replied just as the rest of the men joined them, she noticed that they had also gathered Gendry in their journey to the room. 

“So,” Arya said with an air of sarcasm once everyone had taken their seats, “what news do the travelling band of brothers bring?”

“News, aye?” Anguy chortles. 

“Aye, we ain’t ravens Milady.” Jack winks.

“Oh sorry,” she says politely, before rolling her eyes, “what the fuck have you lot been up to then?”

“Aye, that’s more like it!” Anguy snorts, and Arya pulls a face. 

“There was some trouble around the Hollow Hill,” Beric explained, “some of the newer men we left behind rebelled against our cause.”

“How so?” Gendry asked with a frown.

“Stealing and raping,” Tom answered. 

“Don’t,” Beric warned when she opened her mouth to argue that they all stole at some point or another, “they were stealing from the small folk, from the people  _ we  _ swear to protect.”

Arya stared at him momentarily, “All sorted now though?” she asks. 

“All sorted.” Beric confirmed, “I also had a meeting with a Lord who has sworn himself and his men to us, they will meet us at White Harbor.” 

“We’re sailing?” Arya asked with a frown.

“Seems safer, if we were to ride, we’d have to come too close to the Twins and Moat Calin both. Sailing from the Saltpans to White Harbor, then onto Winterfell, it’ll be the safest option. We’ll stop off at the Inn on the way.” Beric explained.

“Or, maybe we take the road, go to the Twins.” she said, vengeance clouding her sense. 

“Don’t you worry Milady,” Tom beamed at her, “we’ve sorted a little gift for them Freys.”

“What’s that Tom?” she asked.

“That would be telling Skinny Squirrel.” Anguy laughs.

“Don’t call me that,” she scowls.

“Aye, she seems to have filled out a bit!” Lem winked.

Her eyes drifted to Gendry and they both blushed, “Beric,” she said chewing on her lower lip, “we need to tell you something.”

Beric nodded, but she found no words. She rubbed her fingers across her forehead before deciding it would be simpler to just stand. 

“Oh boy, those Starks are gonna kill you lad.” Jack laughed, looking at Gendry who had flushed bright red.

“Like I’d let them.” Arya scowled as she sat back down, “Wait, Jack, you said Starks?”

“Yer sister.” he nodded.

“Ohh.” she responded sadly, having got excited with the prospect of one of her brothers being there, then she remembered that she and Sansa were the only Starks left. Robb, Bran and baby Rickon were all dead, and Jon was a  _ Snow. _

“And what of you Arya, what did you learn whilst we were away?” Beric asked.

“Hope she learned how to swaddle a babe.” Lem snorted.

“Why would I need to do that, you with your piss cloak, surely you know all about it.” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Arya?” Beric prompted whilst the other men concealed their snickers.

“The Blackfish is coming with us.” she responded, “He seems like a good man all around.”

“What of Edmure?” Harwin asked.

“Well Lord Tully must stay.” she responded.

“Arya,” Beric sighed, “we all know that, but what we’re asking is if he’ll be on our side, if we need aid will he send it, that sort of thing.”

“Think that depends on who ‘ _ we _ ’ are.” she crossed her arms, “But, the Blackfish does seem to be able to wrangle him, so maybe.”

“Do you think he’d be willing to send men North?” Beric asked her.

“North? Why?” she asked wide eyed, “Surely we would need to move south, against Cersei?” 

“Eventually,” Thoros spoke at last, “things are stirring North.”

“Stirring?” she asked, thinking of Old Nan’s tales, her eyes immediately drifted to Harwin.

“Turns out some of Old Nan’s tales may ring true, My Lady.” Harwin said to her, she couldn’t help but smile thinking of Old Nan and her stories. Of Bran’s demands of the tales of Knights, and Sansa’s about Princes rescuing Princesses. Arya liked the  _ scary  _ stories best, although Robb and Theon would try to scare her, Sansa and Bran after Old Nan told those stories.

“Do you think she could still be alive Harwin?” Arya asked, lost in her happy childhood memories.

“She must’ave been one hundred when I was a boy,” Harwin paused to think, “the old woman could probably outlive us all. She’s served your family for three or four generations, at the least!” 

“I hope she’s alive,” Arya sighed, “we’ve lost too many.”


	14. Chapter 14

The parcel that Ravella Smallwood had sent to her along with the Brotherhood contained clothing.

“Never thought I’d see you smile at clothes!” Gendry laughed, lounging on the bed before her.

She carefully sorted through the clothing, “I’ve..” she hesitated, “the trousers, they’ve got extra fabric on them..”

“So they can fit the babe?” Gendry asked, his eyes going to the trousers she held. 

“Nah, so I can steal more easily, idiot!” she scowled, before looking at the rest of the clothing in the parcel. The parcel contained 2 pairs of trousers, several loose fitting tunics, undergarments, a loose fitting dress and even some baby clothing. 

“I should send Ravella a raven,” Arya turned towards the desk in their bedroom.

“Arya,” Gendry called out, softly reaching out to loop a hand around her wrist, “you can do that tomorrow, come to bed, it’s been a long day.”

“But,” she tried to argue.

“Arry,” he cocked an eyebrow at her, “come to bed babe.”

She sighed before turning to face him.

“It’s not like anyone will be in the rookery for you to send the raven.” Gendry smiled at her, reaching out to lightly rub her shoulders.

“I can send my own ravens Gendry,” she said lightly, leaning back into his hands to allow him to continue to caress her shoulders. 

“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” he replied kissing the back of her neck, his right hand slipping around her to stroke her stomach.

“Hey,” she twisted her neck slightly, running the tip of her nose along his jaw, “you’re not still worried about my sister are you?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “well, yes.. But.. I mean, I know you’ll protect me.”

“Always,” she said with no hint of doubt, laying her hand atop his resting atop her stomach, “we’re pack, the three of us.”

“Thoros?” she said in an unusually small voice.

“Little she wolf,” the Red Priest turned to face her, his faded red robes flapping about him.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

“Is it about the babe?” he replied.

Her hand instinctively falls to her stomach, she shakes her head, “It’s not that, I wanted to ask about what Tom said, about sending a gift to the Frey’s.” 

Thoros nodded, loose skin hanging around his cheeks jiggling as he did so, “Come, we’ll go to  _ your  _ Gods.”.

Silently she trailed the ageing priest, his grey hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck.

Thoros stopped before the heart tree, she watched him as he studied the tree.

“Odd is it not?” he asked.

Arya snorted, lowering herself down on her knees before the tree, silently she offered up a prayer to the Old Gods. She wasn’t even sure that she believed in any Gods any more, however she hated people ridiculing them even more so. 

“It’s no more odd than seeing things in the flames, Thoros.” she responded, moving to sit. 

“Do your Gods ever talk to you Arya?” Thoros asked.

She shrugged in response, sometimes she felt that she heard Bran when she was in the Godswood, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think that Bran was a God. 

“I don’t want to talk about Gods Thoros,” she cocked an eyebrow up at him, her attitude falling short from her position sat on the floor. 

“Of course not, My Lady.” he smiled before sitting down beside her.

“Will you tell me what is happening?” she asks him. 

“Arya, you may think that we do a lot of things without you, or that we don’t take you into account,” Thoros explained.

“Well that’s because you do, you leave me behind all of the time. You lot always say Gendry and I are a part of the Brotherhood, but it’s only when it suits you or Beric!” she argues.

“Sometimes it’s just safer to leave you behind,” Thoros responds gently. 

“That’s my point!” she throws her hands up, “It’s safer to leave me behind, unless you need me. I can handle my own as much as the rest of you. You all know I’m as good with a sword as all of you save Beric, I’m better than everyone but Anguy with a bow, I’m not a simpering lady who squeals at the sight of mud. I can fight, I can protect myself!” 

“All of that is true,” Thoros nods, “although, I’m not sure it’s the right time to be making this argument.”

She sighed rubbing a hand over her stomach, “Yeah, well I wouldn’t even be with child if you lot hadn’t left us behind.” she scowled.

“Hm,” he smirked in reply, “I think the two of you would have found your way here eventually. Frankly, I think we’re all shocked it took  _ this  _ long!” 

She rolled her eyes, “Are you going to tell me what you’ve done to the Freys?”

“Oh, nothing,  _ yet. _ ” he chuckled.

“Thoros.” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Have you heard of the Faceless Men?” he asks. 

“Yes,” she responded cautiously, her mind drifting to the iron coin hidden in her belongings, given to her by Jaqen H’ghar, “Valar morghulis.”

“Valar dohaeris,” the red priest smiled back, “what do you know of them?”

“We never told you about half of what happened at Harrenhal,” she said pausing to consider what she should say, “when we were on the road, heading North, to the Wall, I saved three men. One of the men told me I had taken 3 lives from the Many-faced God, so I owed them 3 lives.”

“You used up them 3 lives?” Thoros laughs.

“Yes, a long time ago.” she frowns.

“Shame that.” Thoros smirks.

“So you’ve sent the Faceless Men after the Freys?” Arya asks. 

“They owed us, we cut a deal with them. They’ll take out the old man, and his 3 heirs.” Thoros responded. 

“3?” she cocked an eyebrow, “So you’re leaving him with.. About 997 heirs?”

Thoros snorts, “Somthin’ like that Milady, but more importantly, it’ll leave them in disarray. That’s when a few dozen sell swords will descend. They’ll go after the men, ordered them to leave the women and children be.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously. 

“We’ve ordered it in retaliation for the Starks. Harwin sent the words, ‘ _ The North Remembers’ _ along with them. Didn’t think you’d stand for women and children being massacred.” Thoros responded. 

“But you thought I’d be fine with killing however many innocent men?” she challenged. 

“What would you have us do?” he replied, “Capture them all and hold a trial?”

“Thought Lord Beric gave everyone a fair trial?” she argued, mostly just to be argumentative, she understood the impracticalities of that.

“Arya,” Thoros clicked his tongue, “we don’t have the men to hold them, nor the time to trial them.”

“Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” Thoros asked, rising to his feet.

“Who’s the lord meeting us at White Harbour?” she asked, looking up at the Priest from the floor.

“That I cannot tell you, Little Wolf.” he grinned, “You’ll see soon enough. I’ll be off now, I’m guessing you’re staying with your Gods?”

Arya guessed he asked that as she hadn’t moved a muscle from her sitting position.

“Yes,” she replied, “could you ask Gendry to come here?”

After Thoros left, Arya had found herself thinking about the times she'd run into the Godswood of Winterfell, to find her father cleaning Ice, or Robb and Theon shoving  each other around, or Jon brooding deeply. A smile had pulled at the corner of her lips, and she spoke softly to her babe.

“I’ll tell you all about them, it’ll be like you knew them. I’ll tell you about the times Mother would scold me for getting messy, but would fold into softness the moment I exposed my cuts and bruises to her. She’d rush me off to Maester Luwin who’d tend to the wounds, then mother would kiss them to make them better. Mamma and dadda will do that for you. I’ll show you all the places Bran used to climb, but.. Don’t get ahead of yourself and climb too high, little one. I’ll take you and daddy to the crypts, I’ll show you the Lords of Winterfell and the Kings of Winter, I’ll show you Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Brandon, I guess even.. Father and.. Robb..” she sighed, the pain of losing her parents and siblings striking at her core once more, but also the sting that her child would never know most of her family. 

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, trying hard to keep her composure, fighting the tears that were pricking the back of her eyes.

“Arry?” Gendry gasped, running towards her, “Arry, what’s wrong?”

He moved to kneel beside her, she sniffled and threw her arms around her husband’s neck.

“I’m okay,” she sniffed. 

“You’re crying,” he observed, running his thumbs along her cheeks to capture her tears.

“I’m okay, I was just thinking of home, and my family..” she replied.

“Arry,” he said so softly, she could hear the pain in his voice, he placed his forehead to hers, “I know our babe will never know your family, but you can tell them so many stories, it’ll feel like they know them.”

“I know,” she nodded her head, “that’s what I was doing.”

“You were talking to... it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she sniffed.

Gendry’s lips twitched into a smile.

“What?” she demanded.

“Well, you were teasing me for talking to the babe the other day.” he smirked.

“No,” she scowled, “I was teasing you for being a sappy bastard!” 

“Hm,” he paused, “that does sound about right.”

She laughed in response before leaning forward to capture his lips between hers.

“Thoros said you needed me here, I was worried something was wrong.” Gendry sighed.

“Something is wrong!” she pouted.

Gendry’s eyes skimmed her body, looking to see if something was wrong with her.

“I can’t get up.” she scowled. 

Gendry laughed, “Why did you sit down then?”

“Well it looked like it was going to be a long conversation, I didn’t want to stand for that long.” she responded.

“Arry,” he laughed lightly, holding a hand out to help her to her feet, “couldn’t Thoros have helped you?”

She scowled at him in response. 

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t ask for help.” she began to walk away from him.

He caught up to her easily, lightly grasping her wrist and bringing her to a stop, “You literally just asked me for help.”

“Yes,” she sighed, “don’t remind me.”

Gendry cocked his head at her.

“Look, I hate admitting that I need help, but I do!” she ranted, “But if I need help, I’m sure as hells not asking for it from anyone but you! And maybe Ravella.. Depending on what it is.” 

“Arry,” Gendry said lightly, bending down to make eye contact with her, “you know I’d do anything you ask, right?”

“I know,” she nodded, leaning into his body.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some pure idiocy coming up in this chapter Ladies and Gentlemen!

“Ned Dayne?” Arya frowned, “We’re meeting Ned Dayne?”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Gendry muttered.

“He’s bringing 30 Knights, and three times as many horses.” Thoros explained.

“How many foot soldiers?” she asked .

“300.” Beric responded.

“That is not enough.” Arya scowled.

“Arya,” the Lord sighed, “we’re not invading Castely Rock, we’re going to your sister.” 

“Exactly.” she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I know you and your sister weren’t the closest as children,” Beric said.

Arya snorted, “That hardly covers it.”

“Arya, Ned wants to help us.” Beric responded.

“No,” Gendry grunted, “he wants to help  _ Arya _ .”

“Well that may be, but he’s pledged himself to our cause and that’s a good thing.” Thoros answered, “More men, more swords.”

Gendry sighed, Arya spun to face him, hands on her hips, “What?”

He shook his head, “It’s nothin’.”

“Gendry,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “I’m your wife, don’t give me that shit.”

“I just.. I mean.. It’ll be good, having the extra men, alright?” he shrugged, before looking away from her. 

“Really?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, before the two of them locked eyes.

“Well at least he’ll know she’s yours this time, Bull!” Anguy chuckled, clapping Gendry on the back.

“Fuck off Anguy!” Arya grunted.

“Aye lad, you don’t mess with a pregnant lady.” Tom observed. 

“Especially one who’d rip your head off on a  _ good _ day.” Lem laughed.

“Shut up, all of you.” she moaned, turning away from them heading towards the Inn at the Crossroads.

“Where is everyone?” Arya turned to Gendry noticing that none of the orphans had run out to meet them.

Gendry shrugged in response, “Was thinkin’ the same thing, don’t think there’s any trouble do you?” he asked, reaching for his war hammer.

“Jack,” she whispered, as he was the closest to them, “how come it's so quiet? Where is everyone?”

“Fire’s burning,” he said glancing at the chimney, “they must be inside.”

“Lem,” Jack motioned the other man over, “draw your sword, just in case.” the two of them drew their swords, moving slowly towards the inn.

“If there’s trouble, stay out of it,” Gendry said sternly.

“Gendry!” she huffed.

“No Arya,” he grasped her wrist, “this isn’t about  _ you, _ I know you’re capable, this is about  _ our  _ babe.”

Her expression softened as she looked up at her husband, the love evident in his eyes.

“I promise,” she said softly, “if there’s any problems, I’ll stay out of it, but I will defend myself, and the babe, if I have to, okay?”

“Okay,” he relented, quickly pressing his lips to her forehead before the two of them turned back to follow Lem and Jack.

The four of them moved cautiously to the door of the inn, “Just hold up,” Jack said holding a hand up to the two of them.

Jack entered the inn with Lem before motioning for them that it was safe to follow. 

“What’s happening?” Arya asked, creeping towards them.

“Come see,” Jack laughed.

Arya glanced at Gendry who had just as confused an expression on his face as she did.

“C’mon,” Arya said, holding her hand out for Gendry.

“It’s safe?” Gendry asked, looking at Lem.

“Well, Willow might whack you over the head with a wooden spoon.” Jack laughed.

Arya snorted at the comment as Willow’s voice came from within the inn, “Watch I don’t give you a beating Jack!”

“C’mon!” Arya tugged Gendry into the inn.

As they walked into the inn all of the orphans were gathered around the common room area.

Arya heard their names being called out from all around them, orphans were running up to them constantly, throwing their arms around them, declaring how much they’d missed them. Once everyone calmed down they moved aside revealing Jeyne, Willow and Hot Pie.

Jeyne’s eyes fell on Arya’s stomach, then drifted to Gendry, her lips pursed as she gave them an odd look.

Willow grinned before rushing forward, her arms flung around Gendry’s neck instantly, before moving on to Arya.

“You’re having a babe?” Willow whispered. 

“That or I’ve got fat,” she laughed as Willow released her. 

“You don’t look fat,” Willow smiled sweetly.

Arya returned a shy smile before stepping back beside Gendry, her eyes travelling to Hot Pie who hadn’t even moved.

Gendry squeezed her hand, “Can we go to the kitchen?” she asked Hot Pie, almost shyly.

“So, what’s new guys?” Hot Pie asks moving around the kitchen, his hands fluttering before him, as though he was searching for something to do.

Arya’s gaze searches out Gendry’s, a look of confusion is plastered on his face.

“Is he serious?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Arya shruged in response. 

“Are you kiddin’ me HP?” Gendry asked, frowning at him.

Hot Pie turned around away from an oven, a cloth in his hands as though he was about to take something out of the oven, “Wh-what do yuh mean?”

“What’s new?” Gendry echoed. 

“Oh, well we got a few new orphans.” Hot Pie answerd.

“For fucks sake,” Arya muttered, pushing herself off from the work surface she’d been leaning against, “you asked us what’s new, and I mean..” she motioned to her body.

“Well.. I.. uh..” Hot Pie’s eyes were fixated on her stomach, “I thought you’d maybe found a new baker..” 

“Hot Pie,” Arya said slowly, “did you just make a joke?”

“Well, I didn’t wanna insult yous like..” Hot Pie responded, shuffling his feet awkwardly, before moving to take some bread out of the oven.

“Don’t leave that near Arya,” Gendry said wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “she’ll wolf it down.”

“Oi!” she lightly punched his arm, before addressing Hot Pie, “Why would you have insulted us?”

“Gendry is.. Well.. bastards make him..” Hot Pie rambled.

“Bastards?” Arya frowned, “What do you mean?”

Hot Pie’s eyes roamed back and forth, darting around trying to avoid looking at either of them. 

“HP, Arya and I got married, our babe won’t be a bastard.” Gendry smiled.

“Oh, well.. That’s.. Congratulations.” Hot Pie smiled shyly. 

“Er, thanks.” Arya answered awkwardly. 

“But guys, if Gen’s a bastard.. The babe still won’t have a name.” he frowned.

“I gave Gendry  _ my  _ name when we married, the babe _will_ have a name.” Arya laughed lightly.

“You have a name Arya?” Hot Pie’s furrowed brow deepened. 

“Yes Hot Pie, I do.” Arya smiled, leaning back into Gendry’s chest. 

“That’s good,” Hot Pie nodded, “I mean, I never even knew the two o’ you were.. Like.. anything?”

“Things change.” Gendry shrugged, dipping down to press a kiss to the top of Arya’s head.

“Also, he’s totally been in love with me the whole time.” Arya teased.

“Pft!” Gendry snorted, “Cause your infatuation only started this year?”

Arya poked out her tongue in response, triggering the three of them to begin laughing.

Hot Pie walked over, wrapping his arms around the two of them, “I missed you guys, yer like me family.”

“You’re pack Hot Pie.” Arya smiled at the large man, “But right now, you’re killing me.”

“Oops,” Hot Pie blushed, releasing them from his iron grip of a hug, “is jus’ that yer so small Arry.”

“It’s nice, being back.” Arya observed as she and Gendry lay abed, his hand tracing patterns down her flank.

“Yeah, I forgot how much I missed HP.” Gendry turned to kiss her forehead, “Maybe we should stay here a while?”

“I..” she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

“You want to go home don’t you?” he asked, softly.

Arya nodded her head, “I.. I think I’ve kinda got my head around seeing Sansa now.. She’s my sister, I think as long as she’s alive.. I just.. I don’t know..”

“Shh, Arry,” Gendry soothed her, “it’s fine, I understand you. Whatever you decide, I’ve  _ always _ got your back.  _ Always _ .” 

“Thank you,” she responded in a small voice, “we’ll come back one day though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “like we could leave Hot Pie here without ever seeing him again.”

“He’d burn the place down.” Arya laughed.

“Somethin’ like that,” Gendry agreed, “well, at least he has Jeyne and Willow to keep him safe.”

“I still feel like I’m leaving my puppy behind every time we leave him.” Arya sighed, snuggling up into Gendry’s side.

The door knocked after a few moments of peace.

“It’s open,” Gendry called out.

“Ow! Fuck!” she heard Anguy yell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Gendry practically growled, but she chose not to move.

“Walked into the bloody wall.” Anguy responded.

“Why’s your hand over your eyes, idiot!” Gendry grumbled. 

“Well you might have been naked.” Anguy shrugged, removing his hand from his face.

Arya sat up, frowning at the lanky, ginger man, “You think he’d have said the door was open if we were naked? You are insane.” 

“Well I dunno!” Anguy frowned.

“So what did you want?” Arya snapped at him, standing in their doorway. 

“Oh yeah, well Beric wants me to tell you we’re leavin’ at first light.” Anguy said at last.

“Alright.” she nodded. 

“Anything else?” Gendry asked impatiently, “Or are you gonna stand there gawking on us all night?”

Anguy snapped back to himself, “Inviting me to join you in bed are you Bull?” he asked with a wink.

“We’ll return for you one day,” Arya squeezed Hot Pie’s meaty hands between her own slender ones.

“I’ll be fine, don’t you be worryin’ on me now.” he sniffed, as though he were holding back tears. 

“Hot Pie, we’re a team, you, me and Arry.” Gendry smiled broadly, placing his own large hands around Arya and Hot Pie’s, “One day we’ll be back to see you, promise.” 

“Promise.” Arya echoed.

“Yeah well.. That’s if you don’t get too busy at..” Hot Pie paused, “Where is it you’re goin’ again?”

“Winterfell.” Gendry replied.

“Winterhell?” Hot Pie asked wide eyed, “Like where em’ Stark’s come from?”

“This one is possibly the dullest lad in existence,” Anguy chortled, doubling over in glee.

“Winter _ fell _ Hot Pie.” Arya laughed.

“You sure?” he frowned slightly.

“I am.” she chuckled. 

“Well, I hope things go well for the both of you.” Hot Pie sniffled once more, nodding his head sternly as though to compose himself, “Well, I guess the three of yous now.”

“And you Hot Pie,” Arya smiled, pulling back her hands. 

“Ready to go home Lady Stark?” Thoros asked, coming to stand beside them.

“I’m not Lady Stark, I never have been,” Arya responded argumentatively, “that’s my sister.”

Gendry rolled his eyes in turn, “But she is ready to go home.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gendry may get a little.. mean at some point here, but be asured, he does not really mean to be.

The seas were calm as they set out from the Saltpans on a Dornish trading gally, no doubt organised by the Lord of Starfall, seeing as very few large ships ever called at the Saltpans.

The captain immediately insisted on handing over his cabin to  _ the little lady,  _ as he took to calling her, despite her immense protests. It was only when Gendry practically carried her into the cabin kicking and screaming that she finally relented. 

“I don’t need special favours just cause I’m a woman!” she protested, shoving at her husband's chest.

“No one is doing that!” he argued back.

“No?” she cocked an eyebrow, holding her arms out to illustrate the cabin around them.

“Arya,” Gendry sighed, settling onto the bed, “he doesn’t know you’re a lady, look at you!”

“I don’t wanna look at me!” she scrunched her face up.

“You are impossible.. you're beautiful and funny, but the biggest pain in my arse, and did I mention impossible?” he responded, looking at her with a look of almost awe. 

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“Never, I love you and I’m never going to get tired of-”

His passionate speech was cut short as she surged forward, pressing her lips hungrily to his.

“Or you could do that,” Gendry laughed once she pulled back from him.

“It’s good that the main sleeping quarters are far away from the captain’s cabin,” Anguy said with a cheeky smile as he sat across from them at breakfast.

“What are you talking about?” Gendry frowned at him, a furious glare in his eyes.

“Well.. it’s bloody freezin’ innit!” Anguy stated, “Share body heat an’ all that, you two would get wandering hands.” 

“Freezing?” Arya snorted, “You’ve seen nothing yet.”

“What d’yuh mean?” Anguy was the one frowning now.

“It’s going to get colder?” Gendry groaned.

“Yeah, a lot colder,” Arya laughed, “Winterfell is far further North,  _ and  _ there’ll probably be snow.”

“I’ve never seen snow.” Gendry answered.

“I wouldn’t think so, Southern boy.” Arya reached up to ruffle her husband's hair. 

“We’re all going to have to start sleeping together aren’t we?” Anguy asked, she couldn’t tell if it was desire or pain straining his voice. 

Gendry snorted, “Not in our bed, mate, there’s hardly room for me in there.”

Arya pouted.

“What?” Gendry protested, “Seriously Ar, I love you an’ all, but you’re moving around so much in bed, I nearly fall out each night!”

“ _ See,  _ this is exactly why it’s better for us to sleep on the ground!” Arya responded.

“Why would.. But you have..” Anguy was almost speechless, “I’d always choose a bed!”

“Me too.” Gendry muttered. 

“That’s settled, when we reach White Harbor, you two will share a bed, and I’ll take the ground!” Arya grinned, spooning some of porridge in front of her into her mouth.

“Arya,” Gendry was the one to roll his eyes this time.

“Captain says we’re a couple of hours off of White Harbor,” Beric informed them as he walked into the eating area, followed by Thoros and the ship’s captain. 

“Thank the Gods, I need bread!” Arya almost sighed. 

The men cast her odd looks, Gendry just shook his head whilst laughing. 

“What?” she demanded looking at them each in turn, “I’m growing a tiny human here, getting me bread is the least you could do!” 

“First thing I’ll do when we reach port is send for a loaf!” Thoros winked at her.

“That’s why you’re my favourite.” Arya smiled.

“Wait.. really?” Anguy leaned forward across the table, “Thoros is your favourite? Really?”

Arya cocked an eyebrow, “Not really, but he might be if he gets me a fresh loaf of bread, still warm.. Ohh, and some fresh butter.. And honey! Maybe some apple cakes too!” 

“Arya,” Gendry laughed, “I’ll hunt down all of that and more, the second we dock.”

She kissed his cheek lightly, “He’s my favourite really, then Harwin, he’s a North man.”

“I’m insulted!” Anguy protested dramatically. 

“Get used to it, Archer.” Gendry laughed, wrapping an arm around Arya’s shoulder.

“Wow,” Gendry gasped as they sailed up the White Knife, his arms encasing her small body, trapping her between him and the railing of the ship.

“Yeah,” Arya smiled lightly, she’d visited White Harbor on several occasions in the past, but the sight of the Castle even impressed her. The city surrounding the castle looked clean and well laid out, as far from the crowded, stinking city of King’s Landing as could be. The houses had whitewashed walls and pointed dark slate roofs. 

“Wh-what is that?” Gendry’s voice faltered, pointing out towards Seal Rock, where a large rock cut through the grey-green waters. 

The vast rock was decorated with an array of weaponry, almost as though the Manderlys were preparing for war, but Arya suspected that it was the creatures that adorned the rock that had startled Gendry, rather than the weaponry. 

“Those are seals.” Arya chuckled.

“Seals?” Gendry said slowly, the concept completely foreign to him. 

Arya glanced around the island, noting perhaps 60 to 70 seals, as their ship came closer to the rock the seals began to bark and grunt, almost as though they were warning the Manderly’s of their arrival. Well, if the Maderly’s even still ruled at White Harbor. If the sight of the seals was a shock, the sound had Gendry well on guard, his left hand tightening around her wrist, practically tugging her away from the ship's edge.

“Gendry?” Arya laughed.

“They’re a bit..” he swallowed, “frightening?” 

“Frightening?” she turned in his arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well.. they’re.. I mean…” he stuttered, “Half of them are as big as me! They’d eat  _ you  _ whole!”

Arya chortled, “Really?”

“Easily!” Gendry protested. 

“Gendry,” she sighed comically, “horses are bigger than us both. Ever been eaten by one?”

“No,” he frowned, “but-”

“But what?” she demanded.

“Look at them Arry!” his gaze locked on the seals over her shoulder, “They’re… ugly.” 

“Well I never, Ser Gendry!” she lightly pushed against his chest, before turning to head below deck, “Most unchivalrous!” 

Some servants met them at the docks of White Harbor, orders being given out here and there as officials boarded the ship to check it’s cargo. Arya sat upon an empty barrel watching men walking up and down the gangways of the ships around them.

“I always liked White Harbor.” she said casually.

“Yeah?” Gendry responded softly, wrapping his arms around her from behind “Want to tell me about it?”

She lent back into the broad expanse of his chest, her hand resting on her stomach, she sighed happily, when Gendry’s hand joined hers.

“I came here with Father, twice” she smiled, the memories of walking along the cobbled streets, hand-in-hand with her father.

“Maybe one day we can walk along these streets with our babe?” Gendry responded, kissing his way up her neck, before lightly suckling behind her ear.

She responded with a light gasp, internally scolding herself for her weakness.

“Oi!” Lem’s voice interrupted the moment they were sharing.

“What?” she asked irritably. 

“Horses are ready.” Lem motioned towards the waiting horses.

“Come Milady,” Gendry said dramatically, offering her his hand.

She smacked it away, lowering herself off of the barrel, “I’ll tell you when I need help.”

She could hear him laughing behind her as she stormed towards the horse waiting for her. Instantly she began to smooth the horse, allowing it to get accustomed to her scent, she felt horses rode better when accustomed to it’s rider. 

She noticed Gendry standing near his own horse, his arms barred across his chest as he watched her.

At last she sighed, before turning towards him, “Can I have a hand?”

“Of course, Milady,” he beamed before moving to lift her almost effortlessly onto her horse.

The pale New Castle sat atop a hill rising above the thick white walls of the city of White Harbor. The bright aquamarine Merman sigil was displayed around the castle walls, with two grey and white Direwolf sigils displaced near the main gate. Arya felt her heart stutter within her chest on seeing her own sigil on display.

“You okay?” Gendry asked her with a worried look upon his face.

“Yeah,” she answered quietly, almost inaudibly, “just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” he smiled at her.

She nodded her head, forcing herself to focus as they paused in the castle courtyard. 

A fat, bald man with a droopy mustache stepped forward to greet them when they had dismounted their horses. The man wore aqua coloured clothing, from his breeches, to his tunic, to his fur lined cloak, clasped with a silver and sapphire trident.

“Lord Beric,” he bowed before them, “it is a pleasure to see you again. Ser Brynden”

“You too, Ser Wylis.” Beric clasped the man's arm in greeting, before the Blackfish did the same.

“My father and Lord Dayne await you and your..” the man paused, considering his words, “special guests, in the Merman’s Court.”

“Excellent, are you to join us as well?” Beric gave the knight a charismatic smile.

“Oh, yes, I believe so, let me just let Ser Marlon know to escort your other companions wherever they need to go.” the walrus-like man responded. 

“Beric,” Arya whispered as the man headed across to a tall, stout man with a grey beard.

Beric turned to her.

“Do they know who I am?” she asked, “Do any of them know that Arya Stark is here.”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Not even Ned?” she asked.

“No,” he shook his head once more, “they only know that we are on the side of the Starks.” 

“Okay,” she frowned, “but the Manderly’s betrayed us.”

“What?” Gendry was suddenly furious.

“Come now Arya,” Beric said sternly, “we’ve been through this, you know Lord Manderly had no choice, Ser Wylis was a prisoner and Ser Wendel was killed alongside your mother and brother.”

“So was Dacey Mormont, but the Mormonts never turned their backs on House Stark!” she protested with her hands on her hips, her stomach poking out of her cloak. 

“Arya,” Beric sighed, tired of having the same argument, “what happened, happened, people made bad decisions, they did what they had to do to survive, they’re on our side now. They thought that the Stark’s were gone, what choice could they have made?”

“And neither of you thought to tell me any of this before?” Gendry asked furiously.

“Just be calm,” the Blackfish came in, looking them each in the eye in turn, “the three of you. We’ll see how things go, we won’t trust them fully until we all agree.”

“All?” Gendry’s eyebrows shot up, “Who is all? Am I getting a say? What about Anguy and Lem? Or does all just mean highborns?” 

“Gen,” Arya reached to clasp his hand.

“No Arya,” he retorted, “I’m fed up of being left out.” He turned his gaze to Beric, “We’re meant to be a brotherhood, but we’re just your lowly servants following your orders.” 

“Gendry, I’m sorry,” Beric sighed, “you’re right. The decision.. We will take a vote on it, all of us. Like you said, we’re a brotherhood.”

“Ready?” the walrus asked, totally oblivious to the tension surrounding the three of them. 

Beric looked at the two of them for their consent to continue.

Gendry nodded his head and Arya tugged her cloak around her, pulling her hood up.

“We’re ready,” Beric confirmed to the man. 

“Follow me then,” the man responded before sluggishly taking off down a passageway, “sorry the pace is slow, not as speedy as I used to be.”

“No worries, Ser,” Beric smirked, “some of us have little legs, and can’t walk fast any way.” 

“Aye, but I ride faster than the lot of you.” Arya scowled in response, although her hood hid her face. 

“That you do Milady.” Gendry laughed lightly, reaching out for her hand.

Arya noticed Ser Wylis peer over his shoulder at them momentarily, but he said nothing continuing to walk on. 

“The Merman's Court!” Ser Wylis announced before the door, his chest heaving up and down after the walk, “Come, my father awaits within.”

The five of them entered the room, the floor, walls and even the ceiling were all made of wooden planks, with creatures of the sea all around. The sight was enough to make Arya feel nauseous, she tried to ignore it all by looking up towards the dias at the far end of the hall. There was a large cushioned throne set in the middle with an even larger walrus-like man occupying it, Arya recognised this man to be Lord Wyman Manderly. To his right stood a plump pink woman with blonde hair, and two younger women, both older than Arya. The elder of the two young women wore a pale green dress, adorned with a seaweed pattern along the hems and sleeves, her hair was brown and bound in a long braid hanging over her left shoulder. The younger of the women truly piqued Arya’s attention. Her gown was a brighter green, with mermen embroidered all over it in an array of colours. Arya could see that her hair had once been blonde just like the woman’s whom she assumed was her mother, but she’d dyed it green. The look upon her face was one of almost defiance, although Arya did not have a clue what that  was about. To the left of the throne stood a young Lord, who had just been a Lord’s squire the last time she’d seen him. His hair was pale blonde, trimmed neatly around his ears, he wore a purple cloak over a lighter purple tunic and black breeches.

“Are you ready for this?” Gendry asked quietly.

“No, never.” she muttered, before dropping his hand.

“Lord Wyman Manderly,” Ser Wylis came to a halt before the dias, “Father, I bring you Lord Beric Dondarion and his associates, as well as Ser Brynden Tully of Riverrun.” 

“Associates?” Lord Wyman boomed across the room, “Who are you? Who are they Beric?”

“My Lords, Ladies,” Beric bowed towards the dias, “may I introduce Ser Gendry of the Hollow Hill and-”

Arya chose that moment to allow her hood to fall away from her face.

“Lady Arya?” Ned gasped in shock. 

The room broke out into whispers, well, as much as a room of nine people could make.

“You’re Arya Stark?” the green haired girl gasped in a high, thin voice.

“Aye,” Arya answered, looking up at her, rather than at either of the Lords, “and whom might you be?”

“Wylla Manderly, My Lady.” the girl responded. 

“Just Arya.” she smiled. 

“So you haven’t changed?” Ned laughed softly.

“Hello Ned.” she turned towards her old friend with a sweet smile.


	17. Chapter 17

“Sorry, do you mind if we..” Arya cocked her head to the side, “it’s been a long journey, would you mind if we rested for a bit?”

“Rest?” Lord Wyman boomed.

“Aye, could do to freshen up, give you all a chance to process what’s happened.” Beric suggested.

“Yes, I could do with some food,” Lord Wyman responded, “Wylla dear, could you show the Lady to the chambers set aside for her.”

“Yes Grandfather,” the green haired girl dipped into a curtsey. 

“Leona, send a page to show Lord Beric the chambers we’ve set aside for him, and have someone prepare chambers to fit a man of Ser Brynden’s standings.” Lord Wyman instructed, “Wylis, show the young knight here to the rest of Lord Beric’s retainer.” 

“My Lord,” Arya laughed lightly, “there has been some kind of mistake.” 

“Ser Gendry and Lady Arya are very close,” Ned turned to Lord Wyman.

“So what, he’s going to stand guard outside of her door?” Lord Wyman laughed to Ned. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Ned glanced at the two of them, standing as close as possible without touching.

“You assume that I need protecting?” Arya cocked an eyebrow up the dias towards Ned. 

“Nu-nuh-no..” Ned stuttered.

“It’s inappropriate anyways, no harm will come to you under my roof.” Lord Wyman responded, “If it makes you feel better, we can room your uncle close by?”. 

“My Lord,” Arya said in an extra sweet voice, her hand parting her cloak to rest atop of Needle, “I do not require protection.”

Gasps rang out around the room, Arya assumed this was due to her stomach, rather than just because of her exposing her sword. 

“If that is all, my husband and I would like to be shown to  _ our _ chambers.” Arya said, tilting her chin upwards in defiance. 

“Husband?” Ned said in a small voice. 

Arya stepped backwards, against Gendry’s chest, his hand coming to rest lightly upon her shoulder.

“Did you see his face?” Gendry threw his head backwards, laughter rolling through his body. 

“Whos now?” Arya almost sighed, lowering herself to the edge of the bed.

“Ar?” Gendry’s face was suddenly serious, all traces of laughter gone. 

“M’ fine,” she mumbled, kicking her boots off.

“You sure?” he knelt in front of her. 

“Just tired Gen,” she leant forwards slightly, pressing her forehead against his.

“Sleep Arya,” he ordered softly.

“But..” her argument vanished from her mind, “okay, just for a little bit..” she yawned.

“Just for a little bit,” Gendry agreed, pressing his lips lightly to her brow. 

“She’s sleeping!” she awoke to Gendry whispering in a harsh tone.

She blinked to clear her eyes, the room was darkening but illuminated by a fire and a few candles.

“I need to talk to her.”

“No you do not,” Gendry responded, “if  _ she _ wants to talk to you  _ she _ will search  _ you  _ out.”

“You’re trying to control her.”

“I’m controlling my wife by allowing her to sleep?” Gendry sounded furious.

“Gen,” she called out, trying to untangle her limbs from the bedding, “Gendry.”

“You’re awake,” he responded softly, turning to face her, he’d clearly washed whilst she slept, his coal black hair was plastered flat to his head. 

“Mm,” she murmured, slowly moving towards him, she rubbed her eyes noticing she wore only her shift, she looked around for a cloak.

“Here, love,” he picked up a cloak, handing it to her, “Lord Dayne wants to talk to you.”

“I-”, she heaved a sigh, “just send him in.”

“Arya,” Ned beamed walking into the room as she gingerly settled herself into a leather armchair beside the fire. 

“Lord Dayne,” Arya greeted coolly, before turning towards Gendry with a warmer tone, “join us.”

“I can’t believe you’re here, that you’re alive!” Ned beamed at her.

“Why are  _ you  _ here Ned?” Arya asked.

“I wanted to help the Stark cause.” he beamed at her.

“Why?” Gendry practically growled from his place behind her chair.

“Whatever do you mean,  _ Ser _ ?” he made the word sound like an insult.

“Well, the Stark cause, what has it to do with you?” Gendry asked, “You’re a Southerner.” 

“As are you.” Ned responded, almost amused. 

“It’s a family matter.” Arya cut in.

“Hm,” Ned hummed, “and how do you think your family will take to that?”

Arya shrugged casually, “It doesn’t matter, Gendry is my husband, nothing can change that now.”

“How did the Brotherhood even let this happen?” Ned frowned at her.

Arya felt Gendry’s hand heavy on her shoulder, she reached up to lightly squeeze it in reassurance.

“Like they could have stopped me,” she smirked.

Ned gawped at her, his face flickering with emotions.

“Well, Lord Dayne,” Arya said, shifting to rise to her feet, “I think you’d best be off, I need to get ready for supper.”

Gendry laughed, pressing his lips against her neck, “Did you see his face?”

Arya scowled, saying nothing in response before storming off across the room. 

“Arry,” Gendry called out following her towards the small wash room.

“I need to bathe.” she stated simply. 

“Okay love,” Gendry said before turning back to the bedroom. 

She lowered herself into the bath, allowing the water to submerge over her body, her left hand floating up to rest on her stomach. Emotions surged through her as she laid in the tub. Anger flowed through her body, she still couldn’t understand why everyone still reacted the same way to her relationship as they did. It was as if these people who claimed to know her knew nothing about her at all. She almost wanted to dash out of the bath, throw her clothes on, grab Gendry and Needle and run for the woods, run and run until no one knew who she was. She wished that they could just be a newly married couple, expecting their first child, a blacksmith and his wife. She sighed in frustration, knowing that Beric would be grilling her over why she’d treated Ned so coldly. But how could she not the way that he spoke to Gendry? It was the one thing she truly could not take, people talking down on Gendry, Gendry was a better man than any other left alive, she would fight tooth and nail for him, for them, for the family they were forging together. 

“Arry?” Gendry said softly, pulling her from her thoughts. 

She blinked, clearing the fog of memories from her mind, before tilting her head up towards him.

“You done?” he smiled softly down at her. 

“Yeah,” she smiled back at him, a smile she reserved for only him, “help me up?”

“Always,” he grinned, reaching out to take her hands, gently pulling her from the tub. 

A page arrived for them shortly after Arya had finished dressing, she expected him to lead them back to the Merman's Court, but instead they ended up in a smaller audience chamber. The Brotherhood and Uncle Brynden stood around, as though they were waiting on them. 

“Arya,” Beric called out, stepping towards them. 

“If you’re going to grill me about Ned-”

“Arya,” he sighed.

“No Beric,” she argued, “everyone else needs to get over their issues with our relationship, it’s none of their business. I’m fed up of it.”

“Arya, please,” he tried again, “I’m not going to scold you, I know in the past you think I’ve been too hard on you.. I understand, Arya, you know we’re on your side.”

“My side?” Arya cocked an eyebrow, “What does that mean?”

“We are your men, Lady Stark.” Anguy responded.

“I’m not a Lady.” Arya pouted.

“Well either way,” Tom cut in, “we’ve been talkin’ ‘aven’t we? An’ well, we want you to know that we are your men.”

“Thought you were Beric’s men?” Gendry asked, coming to stand at her shoulder.

“We’re a brotherhood,” Beric responded, “they’re not my men.”

“But you’re.. You’re happy to be  _ my  _ men?” Arya frowned, slightly in frustration. 

“Arya,” her Uncle stepped forward, “none of us know what we’re stepping into, going back to Winterfell, we know your sister is there, but very little beyond that. We’ve all spent time with you, we’ve all discussed the fact that if anything may be amiss at Winterfell, it is you that we will back.”

“So, you will pick me over Sansa, Uncle?” Arya asked.

“I’m not casting your sister aside, I’m not disputing her claim, but we are merely saying that our swords are yours to do with what you please.” the Blackfish responded.

“Sansa is older.” Arya stated plainly, “she is the Lady of Winterfell, they say my brothers are dead. You should follow Sansa.”

“Yer sister may be the Lady of Winterfell, but you are  _ our  _ Lady.” Thoros replied.

“Our leader.” Harwin grinned at her.

“Our little she wolf commander,” Tom winked at her. 

Slowly Arya glanced around the room, each of the men meeting her eyes in turn.

Something shifted within her, each of the men reached for their swords, each of them dropping down on their knees before her, laying their swords across their knees. She turned to face Gendry, only to see that he had followed suit.

“Really?” she almost hissed at him.

“Really.” he nodded. “My Lady.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, there will probably not be a chapter next week.


	18. Chapter 18

“Lady Stark, please take one of my carriages.” Lord Manderly practically begged as the Brotherhood readied themselves to leave White Harbour. 

Arya visibility tensed at the title, but thought she should probably start getting used to it once more, after all it was only going to increase once they reached Winterfell. 

“I can still ride a horse, My Lord.” she responded between ground teeth.

“But a carriage is far more comfortable!” Lord Manderly protested. 

“Not for me it ain’t.” she scowled, making her way towards her horse.

“You want a hand Mi-” Gendry was smiling cheekily, “My she-wolf?”

Arya rolled her eyes dramatically before placing a hand atop her husband’s arm in consent.

“One, two, three,” he counted lifting her upwards by her hips.

“Now are you sure you do not want the carriage?” Gendry teased her.

“I  _ will  _ kick you in the face.” she threatened, causing him to chuckle in response.

“Arya,” Beric called out, “you ready?”

“Nah, thought I’d sit-a-horse right here until I need to make water,” she replied dryly. 

“Well I’ll take that as a yes.” Beric shook his head, which ignited another eye roll from her.

“You really wouldn’t rather a carriage?” Ned Dayne asked her as they made camp that evening. 

“I really would rather be left alone.” she muttered.

“I mean, you could even sleep in there!” he seemed excited by the prospect, “You wouldn’t need to sleep on the floor then!”

“I’m used to sleeping on the floor.” she shrugged.

“You always were tough,” he replied.

“That might be the most realistic thing I’ve heard you say, Milord.” Gendry said settling himself down onto the ground next to her. 

Arya watched Ned study Gendry closely as she leant into his side, his hand coming to rest on her hip, gently pulling her closer to him. 

Ned frowned momentarily, it almost seemed involuntarily. His eyebrows bobbed up and down as he composed himself, “I bet you’re looking forward to getting to Winterfell.”

“I’m.. nervous.” she said hesitantly.

“Nervous?” Ned asked.

“A lot of things have changed since I left,” she said, eliciting a hand squeeze from Gendry, “and my sister and I, well we never really saw eye-to-eye.”

“Sure, but you’re both adults now, things will be better!” Ned said positively. 

“You don’t know Sansa.” Arya scoffed. 

“One sister is too proper to budge, the other too stubborn.” Gendry observed, before quickly pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I won’t change who I am.” she insisted. 

“You know I’d never want that of you, my love.” he smiled sweetly at her.

“I know,” she said softly, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek.

“I’m sure you will know Sansa instantly, Uncle.” Arya said as the Blackfish rode beside her the next afternoon, “She looks just like Mother. Well.. she did, she looked just like Mother.”

“All the Stark children took after Lady Catelyn,” Harwin confirmed, “all bar our little Lady here, she was the only one who took after the Starks. Well, Jon too, but that’s.. Uh..”

“I hold no ill will against the lad, Ser.” the Blackfish responded, making Arya like him even more so, “I know my niece was less than warm towards the boy, but whatever happened, it was not the lad’s fault.” 

“I don’t even know if Jon’s alive.” Arya sighed, casting her gaze firmly on the horse's mane. 

“We can only hope,” Gendry offered her a reassuring smile.

“What’s even to say that we will know even when we reach Winterfell?” she asked, glumly. 

“We don’t know, but hope is always a good thing, little Arya Underfoot.” Harwin gave her a small smile.

“I like Harwin.” Gendry observed as they settled into their furs for the night.

“Yeah?” she smirked.

“He’s the only one who knew you as a child, knew you as Arya Stark.” Gendry creeped his lips up her neck.

“And who the fuck am I now husband?” she asked in a low voice.

“Hm,” Gendry murmured as she pressed her arse back towards his crotch, “you, you  are my wonderful, beautiful, funny, amazing, stubborn, bossy wife. My love, my world, my reason to live.”

Her body shook at his response.

“Arry?” he said quietly.

She sniffled.

“Are you crying?” he asked, quietly.

“Shut up stupid,” she sniffed, “it’s the hormones.” 

She felt him smile against the back of her neck as he wrapped his arms around her, “I love you, so, so much.”

“I love you too, stupid.” she turned her head to kiss his arm.

The closer their party got to Winterfell the more impatient Arya felt, and the more uncomfortable she felt. She’d insisted that she would be fine to make the journey this way, and there was no way she would complain about it now. There was no way she would admit her weakness.

“You’ve been quiet today, My Lady.” Beric observed as she was lost in her thoughts, her hand resting on her stomach as her left hand held the reins.

“I’m getting impatient.” she admitted in a small voice, “This is the closest I’ve been to ho- t-to Winterfell in a long time.”

“One more hour and we’ll be at Winter Town.” Beric informed her.

She nodded in response, before fixing her gaze on the horizon. 

“Beric,” she almost whispered.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked her with a concerned look on his face.

“I think I’m scared.” she frowned.

“You,” the weathered Lord reached across to grasp her hand, “you are Arya Stark, you are not afraid of anything.”

She snorted in response, but a single tear escaped the corner of her eye, “I’m scared of this babe.. Of.. not the babe, just what it means..”

“Arya, I’ve never had a child, so I don’t entirely understand what you mean,” Beric said kindly, “but, I’ll tell you this, you are loved and cared for and your babe will be too.”

“Yeah well, it’ll have a band of dummies who’ll swear allegiance to it, so I guess.” she fought back her tears. 

“Always lass, always.” Beric gave her a reassuring grin.

“Thank you.” she smiled back, “For everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that there was no update last week, I've been so busy with work. This is a bit of a short one, so I hope it will be okay.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have some alternative POV's coming up...

Winter Town was bustling as they approached, it was not yet at it’s full winter capacity, but looked like more and more people were arriving daily. Those out on the streets and in the markets hardly even blinked at a train of travellers passing down the streets. It was almost as though it were an everyday occurrence. Something that it certainly had not been when Arya lived at Winterfell, visitors were few and far between, and those who arrived were usually expected. 

The walls of Winterfell were vast and high, made of grey granite. The main gate was a huge wooden arch, flanked by 2 vast towers on either side. As their party approached the gates Arya dropped back, falling into the centre of the men and pulling her hood up over her head. She doubted anyone would recognise the woman she had become, but at the same time she did not wish to risk this. She wanted her appearance to be on her terms. 

The Blackfish, Beric and Lord Dayne made their way towards the front of the party as would befit high-born travelling in such a group.

“Halt!” a voice called out as they approached the huge wooden gate.

The party immediately stopped, a moment of quietness fell around them only broken by the whistling of the wind. That is until a howl sounded out in the Godswood.

Arya’s head immediately snapped around, searching for the beast that made the noise.

“No need to be afraid, they don’t leave the woods.” a guard chuckled.

“I’m not afraid.” she ground out.

“Who are you?” another guard asked.

“Ser Brynden Tully, Lord Beric Dondarian and Lord Edric Dayne.” the Blackfish answered. 

The guard looked perplexed by the answer.

“Open the gates,” a voice called out from behind the walls.

The great wooden gates slowly creaked open, guards filed out to flank their party before instructing them to ride through the outer wall, through the tunnel and the inner wall, into the courtyard.

“My Lords,” the Maester greeted them as they made their way into the main courtyard, “I am sorry that Lady Sansa cannot be here to greet you herself, she was not aware of you arriving.”

“We were not sure when we would arrive, I hope we are not too much of an inconvenience.” Beric responded politely. 

“Certainly no inconvenience My Lord,” the Maester bowed his head, “but you may need to wait for some rooms to be prepared.”

“Of course.” Beric nodded.

“I shall speak to Lady Sansa, she will want to see you all once she’s free,” the Maester was about to turn away, Gendry was in the process of helping Arya down from her horse and he froze. 

“Lady Arya,” Maester Luwin gasped as her hood fell backwards revealing her face.

“Hello Maester Luwin,” she smiled shyly at him.

“Thought I wouldn’t recognise you?” he asked, with a mischievous glint in his old eyes.

“It’s been a long time,” she replied casually, “a lot has happened.”

“Aye, it has My Lady,” he stepped slowly towards her, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, “but don’t you forget I brought you into this world.”

A flush creeped over her cheeks as though the Maester knew more than he was letting on. 

“Come, you sister will want to see you, immediately.” the Maester said, straightening up.

“Ju-just me?” Arya frowned.

“How about we make it you, me and your sister, just the three of us.” Maester Luwin reached for her hand.

“What about my men?” she peered towards Gendry, giving him pleading eyes. 

“They can await in the Great Hall,” Luwin smiled, “sit by the fire and have a drink, I’ll ask the cooks to make some food.”

“I, no,” she frowned, pulling away from her old Maester, “no, I’ll wait with them, Sansa can come see us all.”

“Lady Arya,” Maester Luwin sounded concerned. 

“Maester, these are my men, I must stay with them.” Arya stepped closer to the Brotherhood.

“I shall tell her,” the Maester sighed, almost in frustration. 

The Brotherhood and Arya headed off to Winterfell’s Great Hall to settle beside the fire.

“Why did you not go see your sister?” Gendry asked quietly, coming to sit beside her on a bench.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” she responded quietly.

“Arya, it’s to see your sister.” he reached for her hand.

“I know,” she replied, her face contorting in frustration, she lent her head against his shoulder.

Gendry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

\--- MAESTER LUWIN ---

“Maester, there’s some Lord’s at the gate!” a guard called to him as he made his  way across the courtyard.

“Who?” he frowned. 

“Lords Beric Dondarian and Edric Dayne, as well as Ser Brynden Tully.” the guard responded. 

“Let them in.” Maester Luwin called back up to the guard.

He stood in the courtyard watching the men ride through, his hands clasped together under the sleeves of his robes.

“My Lords, I am sorry that Lady Sansa cannot be here to greet you herself, she was not aware of you arriving.” he said in greeting.

Some of the men began to dismount their horses.

“We were not sure when we would arrive, I hope we are not too much of an inconvenience.” Lord Beric dipped his head to the Maester. 

“Certainly no inconvenience My Lord,” he responded, bowing his head in response, “but you may need to wait for some rooms to be prepared.”

“Of course.” the Lord nodded.

“I shall speak to Lady Sansa, she will want to see you all once she’s free,” he began to turn away from the men when something caught his eye.

It was a man as tall as Lord Eddard had been, his hair was as dark as a raven’s wings, his eyes as blue as sapphires. The man made his way to a horse, placing his hands on the hips of the rider, to assist them from the horse. 

At that moment her hood fell backwards revealing her face and he gasped in recognition, “Lady Arya,”

“Hello Maester Luwin,” she smiled shyly at him, _shyly_ , the girl who had never once in her life been shy.

“Thought I wouldn’t recognise you?” he asked, with a mischievous smile.

“It’s been a long time,” she replied, “a lot has happened.”

“Aye, it has My Lady,” he reached out his hand to cup her cheek, “but don’t you forget I brought you into this world.” 

His eyes skimmed over the young woman’s body, seeing her much changed from the little girl who had left all those years ago.

A flush creeped over her cheeks at his gaze.

“Come, you sister will want to see you, immediately.” he said, straightening up to compose himself.

“Ju-just me?” she frowned at him.

“How about we make it you, me and your sister, just the three of us.” Maester Luwin reached for her hand, trying to reassure the girl, thinking the issue might be her reluctance to be alone with her sister.

“What about my men?” she peered backwards, it almost looked as though she was specifically looking towards the man with the dark hair.

Luwin was curious as to who the man was, and what he was to Arya.

“They can await in the Great Hall,” he smiled reassuringly at her, “sit by the fire and have a drink, I’ll ask the cooks to make some food.”

“I, no,” the girl frowned, pulling away from him, “no, I’ll wait with them, Sansa can come see us all.”

“Lady Arya,” concern creeped into his voice. 

“Maester, these are my men, I must stay with them.” she responded, stepping backwards, closer to  _ her men,  _ to the black haired man in particular. 

“I shall tell her,” he sighed, hoping that she did not think he could not be trusted.

“Lady Sansa,” Maester Luwin said, dipping his head to the Lady of Winterfell as he entered her private solar.

“Maester, did we have a meeting scheduled? Did I forget?” she frowned up at him.

“No My Lady, I have news.” he couldn’t help but smile. 

“News?” Lady Sansa shot to her feet, “Maester, what is it?”

“Your sister is here, Lady Arya, she’s here at Winterfell.” he smiled at her.

“Arya?” the Lady gasped, “She’s alive? Truly Maester?”

“Truly, I’ve seen her,” he nodded in response.

“Where is she?” Sansa asked, almost impatiently. 

“In the Great Hall,” he replied, “she refused to leave her men.”

“She has men?” Sansa cocked an eyebrow, the Maester couldn’t tell if she was impressed or shocked.

\--- SANSA ---

When Maester Luwin told her that Arya was here at Winterfell all of the air left her body. 

She almost fought to keep herself breathing, “Arya?” she gasped, “She’s alive? Truly Maester?”

“Truly, I’ve seen her,” Luwin nodded in response.

“Where is she?” she asked, impatience coursing through her veins. 

“In the Great Hall, she refused to leave her men.” the Maester replied. 

“She has men?” Sansa cocked an eyebrow, not entirely surprised that her sister was commanding men. 

An image of her sister flickered across the back of her eyelids, an 8 year old dressed in her brother's old clothing, a pair of breeches, hair sticking up each and every way, mud caking her hands and knees. But then Sansa realised that her sister was no longer a child, she would be a maid of 16 name days. Surely she would have grown up by now, surely she would no longer be running around in breeches, caked in mud.

Sansa and the Maester made their way to the Great Hall.

When they entered the hall the men stopped talking, turning towards her, their talking stopped immediately, they all bowed in respect to her.

All bar two bodies sat towards the fire, their bodies were facing towards the fire, they seemed to be wrapped up in their own little world, having no notion of what was going on behind them. 

Sansa wondered where her sister was.

Until she saw the smaller of the two figures push the larger away, the smaller figure laughed, “Shut up stupid!”

Sansa staggered forward, shock rippling through her body, she wasn’t sure if she was shocked that she was seeing her little sister for the first time in year, or whether it was seeing her little sister all grown up, or whether it was the way she’d been tucked close to the man she’d called stupid.

Sansa continued to stagger forwards, trying to regain a level of composure as she made her way towards her sister.

She heard her sister laugh once more, she noticed she was wearing a dress as she stood from the bench. The man stood also, Arya’s back was still towards her, but the man was facing Arya and Sansa could see him clearly. He was tall and broad, his hair was as dark as ink and his blue eyes were the colour of shining jewels. His clothes were dishevelled but they looked warm, but that seemed the same for all in their party. She stopped moving forwards, watching her sister interacting with the man.

Her sister turned around, her cloak fluttering out around her, she looked up at the man with a glint in her eye. Sansa was pleased to see her sister laughing and smiling, then she caught sight of her body. Ice shot through her veins, she turned on her heels immediately.

“Send them both to my solar.” Sansa said coldly as she marched back past Maester Luwin and the other men.


	20. Chapter 20

“Lady Arya,” Maester Luwin approached her.

“Maester?” she responded.

“Yer sister was here skinny squirrel!” Anguy bounded up to her.

“Sansa?” her eyebrows shot up, she looked around, looking for her.

“She’s gone now,” Anguy pointed, “that way!”

“Lady Arya,” Maester Luwin cleared his throat, “Lady Sansa requested to see you in her solar, and..” he looked at Gendry.

“Uh, Gendry, I’m Gendry.” he said nervously. 

“Not gonna be Gendry much longer, someone’s about to run you through with a sword.” Jack laughed.

“Anyone tries, and I’ll torture them, that’s a promise.” Arya growled, her hand going straight to Needle.

The men laughed in response, used to her threats, especially when they threatened her husband.

“You ready?” Gendry asks, grasping her hand as they stood outside the door of her father's old solar.

“No.” she responded.

“Are you ever going to be?” he squeezed her hand.

“Nope.” she peered up into her husband's bright blue eyes.

“We have to do this Ar,” he smiled softly at her.

“I know,” she nodded.

“I’m with you.” he said before gently pressing his lips to hers.

As he rested his forehead against hers, the door to the solar opened. The two of them jumped apart, coming face-to-face with her sister.

Gendry immediately bowed, “Lady Stark.”

Arya’s eyes ran over her sister, before giving the best courtesy she could manage. 

“Little sister,” Sansa smiled, almost wolfishly at her, “come in.”

Arya swallowed dramatically before following her sister into their fathers old solar, tugging Gendry in behind her.

The two of them glared at each other for a few moments, like two immovable objects. She felt Gendry shift uncomfortably beside her.

“Arya,” Sansa was the first to crack, the glare breaking, a soft smile taking over her face, “Arya,” she sighed again.

“Sans,” she creaked out in response before her sister threw her arms around her.

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Sansa pulled away slightly, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Arya gave her big sister what she hoped was a reassuring smile, “you’re here, we’re here.”

“Come sister, sit,” Sansa tugged her towards the fireplace, “you must be exhausted.”

Arya glared at her sister, not wanting to admit that she was, she snorted and rolled her eyes before lowering herself into one of the three chairs set up. 

Sansa settled into the chair directly opposite her, leaving the middle one, facing the fire unoccupied. 

“Does your.. companion require an invitation to sit?” Sansa cocked a delicate eyebrow towards Gendry.

“Oh, uh,” he muttered, wringing his hands together.

“Sit, stupid.” Arya rolled her eyes with a fond smile. 

Gendry lowered himself into the chair, looking entirely uncomfortable.

“What’s your name?” Sansa asked, eyeing him curiously. 

“Uh, m-me.. I, uh, Gendry, My Lady.” he stuttered. 

“What’s wrong?” Arya asked him quietly. 

“Sorry, I-”

“Are you afraid of me Gendry?” Sansa asked, a hint of humour in her voice.

“With all due respect, M’Lady, I’m terrified of everything right now.” he responded, eyes cast downwards. 

“Gen,” Arya said softly, placing a finger below his chin, “look up.”

He followed her words, his eyes flickering between the two sisters.

“Gendry, where are you from?” Sansa questioned, “You look vaguely familiar.”

Arya tensed. 

“King’s Landing, My Lady.” Arya could see he was almost forcing himself not to dip his head back down.

“Do you have a name Gendry?” Sansa asked, her pale blue eyes scrutinising him.

Gendry begun to shake his head, rage flared up within Arya, “Course you do, I gave you my name stupid.”

“Arry,” he said in a low voice, “I told you it don’t work like that.”

“To hell with how it works.” she huffed.

“So you married then?” Sansa questioned.

“Of course.” Arya frowned, her hand running over her stomach. 

“Well, you seem to have a thing for bastards, so I could not be sure.” her sister responded in an odd tone. 

Arya immediately jumped to her feet, or at least tried to, “That is low Sansa,” she glared at her sister before storming from the room, not even checking to see if Gendry was following her.

“Where you goin’?” Anguy asked as she stormed through the halls of Winterfell.

“To the training yard!” she all but yelled.

“But,-” he reached out towards her.

She spun, pushing him away, “Fuck off Archer!”

“Arya,” he called after her as she marched down the hallway, “Arya, at least use the bow!”

Arya turned to look at him, sending him a glare at his idiocy, like she would be able to pull back the string of a bow with her swollen stomach and tits. 

Thankfully the training yard was deserted when she reached it, she wasn’t in the mood for anyone telling her the training yard wasn’t a place for a lady.

She unsheathed Needle and began a basic routine before a training dummy, careful not to over exert herself.

“Are you imagining that dummy is me?” Sansa asked from behind her.

“I have a lot more people to imagine it as.” Arya ground out.

“He seems nice.” Sansa said.

“For a bastard?” she asked, twirling Needle in her hand.

“No, just nice.” Sansa responded, “I mean, he seems terrified of me, but I suppose that’s because of you.”

“Sansa,” Arya said cautiously, “my husband is afraid of no one bar me.”

Her sister laughed softly before the two of them fell into comfortable silence. Arya swinging her sword gracefully and Sansa watching her almost in awe.

“When’s the babe due?” Sansa asked, breaking the silence.

“Less than 3 moons.” she turned to face her sister, re-sheathing Needle at her hip.

“Arya,” Sansa gasped, “you shouldn’t have been travelling! You shouldn’t be.. Whatever it is you’re doing out here!”

“Of course My Lady,” Arya said mockingly, “I should be cloistered in the solar knitting, or better yet, laid up in bed all alone. I’ll get on it immediately.”

She stormed past her sister, range bubbling up within her once more, the work she’d done with Needle had all come unravelling undone. 

“Where you off to in a hurry, you?” Harwin smiled at her as she thundered through the yard.

“Away from my sister.” she ground out.

“Ah, just like old times.” Harwin said almost fondly. 

Arya rolled her eyes, nowhere near as impressed by their childhood antics as Harwin was.

“Hey Skinny Squirrel!” Anguy called out after her, “Where you off now? You look even angrier than when you went to the yard.”

“That’s because I am.” she complained, continuing on.

Her mind searched out where she should go, somewhere she was unlikely to run into Sansa, somewhere she would be left alone. Two options came to mind, the library and the Godswood. As much as she'd truly like to head to the Godswood, her babe was half Southern, and she was feeling the cold more keenly than she had as a child. So she set off for the library, in hope that she’d be finally left alone.

She began to walk around the library, slowly perusing the books on the rows upon rows of bookshelves. 

“Lady Arya,” Maester Luwin approached her, almost cautiously.

“Maester,” she answered, trying to compose herself.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” he asked. 

“Um, I’m not sure.” she responded.

“A topic or genre then?” he probed. 

“Family history,” she answered, her eyes flickering downwards to take in the sight of her protruding stomach.

“Ah, yes,” the old Maester smiled, “follow me.”

The Maester navigated the shelves the way only a Maester could, he pulled a couple of books from the shelves, now and then returning a few back to their places.

“I delivered you, and all your siblings you know.” he said as he continued to search.

“I know,” she replied. 

“Here, these should do you for now,” he responded as he added a fifth book to the pile in his arms, “did you want to sit at a table, or near the fire?”

“Fire.” she responded quietly. 

“Your Mother always felt the cold in her pregnancies,” he smiled at her, “come.”

Maester Luwin led her across the library to one of the great fireplaces, a few leather armchairs and some side tables set out there.

The Maester placed the books down on a table, stepping back to allow her to take a seat.

“Is there anything else I can do for you My Lady?” he asked.

“I-you- I mean,” she screwed her face up, “will you sit?”

“As you wish, My Lady.” he dipped his head before settling himself into one of the arm chairs.

“Arya,” she almost whispered, “please, call me Arya.”

“You haven’t changed all that much deep down have you?” He gave her a fond smile.

She gave him a shaky smile back in response. 

“You’ll deliver my babe, won’t you?” she asked him breaking the silence the two of them had fallen into.

“It’s my job My-” he caught himself, “Arya.” 

“Okay, good.” she nodded, “I can trust you, that’s fine.”

The old man gave her an odd look, she didn’t pay too much attention to it, she was used to men giving her odd looks. 

“When will the babe be here?” he asked her.

“Less than 3 moons.” she responded, “Please don’t tell me I should be on bed rest or some shit.”

“I wouldn’t dare!” he smirked, “Although, you may wish to take things a little easier, perhaps less arguing with your sister.”

“Tell  _ her  _ that!” Arya scowled.

“I shall,” he responded, Arya suddenly felt like she was 8 years old once more.

“Maester?” Arya lifted her eyes from her book, the old man putting down the book he had been reading, he lifted his eyebrows signalling for her to speak, “What happened here?”

The old man sighed deeply, “I do not even know where to start.”

Arya worried at her lip momentarily, “Where did Bran and Rickon go? They were here, weren’t they?”

“Until Theon came back,” Luwin nodded.

“Theon?” her eyebrows pulled together, “Did he take them somewhere? Not to the Iron Islands?”

“If only,” he wrung his hands together.

“Maester Luwin?” she prompted in a small voice, her eyes fluttering downwards at the movement in her stomach.

“Robb sent Theon back to the Iron Islands, to treat with his father, bring him to the side of the North. Theon.. No one really knows what happened, but he came back, he took the castle, there wasn’t really anything anyone could do.” he explained.

Her jaw dropped in shock, “Did he kill them?”

“No..” the Maester hesitated, “no, he thought he did, but no. There was a Wildling woman, she and Hodor took the boys, it was a tough trick to get them out, but Theon couldn’t find them. He burnt the Miller’s boys from Acorn Water, they were of an age with your brothers, told his men he’d killed the little lords. It riddled him with guilt though. Soon, his men turned against him, they left, but not before wrecking half of the castle and pillaging us.”

“Do you think they’re alive?” Arya asked.

“Who could say,” he gave her a hesitant smile.

“I think they are.” she responded defiantly.

“Well, you Stark’s are hard to kill.” the Maester reached across to squeeze her hand.

“What happened after Theon?” she asked. 

“For a while, nothing much, we were left alone, we healed and those of us who could started to rebuild. After a few moons, the Boltons came, they stormed the castle, killed all who refused to bend the knee. They were worse even than the Ironborn.” he explained. 

“The Blackfish said that the Knights of the Vale, the Night's Watch and Stannis Baratheon helped Sansa defeat the Boltons.” Arya responded.

“Yes,” Maester Luwin nodded.

“Where are they now?” Arya asked through clenched teeth.

“Stanis and the Night’s Watch had to go back North, some Wildling trouble,” he responded, “the Knights of the Vale, they’re still around.”

“What about Little Finger?” she asked.

“He’s in Winter Town, conducting business.” the Maester said in a pained tone.

“Trying to open up a new whore house?” she frowned. 

“You may be right, Arya.” he replied, “I must be off now, but come find me if you need anything.”


	21. Chapter 21

“My Lady?” a small voice broke her concentration from her book, she raised her eyes to see a middle aged slight woman with dirty blonde hair. 

“Hello?” she smiled at the woman. 

“Lady Sansa wants you to join her in her solar for dinner,” the woman informed her, her eyes trained on the floor.

“What’s your name?” Arya asked. 

“I-me?” the woman’s eyes snapped up. 

“Yes, you.” Arya smiled.

“Bethany, M’Lady.” her eyes dropped back to the floor.

“It's nice to meet you Bethany.” Arya responded.

Bethany looked quite terrified, “Uh, M’Lady, I was t’tell you your husband is there already.”

“Gendry is with my sister?” she frowned. 

The woman nodded in response.

Arya sighed, narrowing her eyes, “Guess I’d best go then.”

“Sister,” Sansa stood to greet her, Gendry stood at the same time.

“You okay?” she brushed her sister off, heading to her husband’s side.

“I’m fine my love,” he soothed her, running his hand over her hair, “your sister and I were gettin’ to know each other.”

“Really?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, making her way to a table in her sister's solar set up with food. 

“Thought we’d have dinner together, as a family.” Sansa smiled at her.

“Have you invited Uncle Brynden?” Arya asked.

“No,” Sansa frowned, as though only just remembering that her great-uncle was even present, “should I send for him?”

Arya gave her a hard look in return, too tired to be making decisions or playing politics.

“We can sup with him tomorrow,” Gendry offered diplomatically, “it’s been a long day.”

Both women looked at Gendry, almost as though he’d started speaking Bravosi, but eventually the sisters amicably nodded at one another before Gendry and Sansa joined Arya at the table.

“How did you spend your day?” Gendry asked her as they ate.

“I avoided murdering a few people, then spent a few hours in the library, Maester Luwin caught me up on what I’d missed whilst I was away.” she replied before spooning some carrots into her mouth.

Gendry snorted in response rolling his eyes at his wife, “Well I am happy you killed no one today.”

“And what of you husband?” Arya smiled at him.

“Harwin showed me around, the forge will need some work.” he answered in a measured tone. 

“Well, at least it’ll keep you busy my love.” she chuckled. 

“Because my hands aren’t full enough with you!” he laughed.

“Oi!” she swatted at him.

“You really do love each other, don’t you?” Sansa smiled fondly at the 2 of them. 

Arya’s eyes sought out her husbands, the two of their smiles stretching across their faces, “Of course.” Gendry answered. 

“Arya,” Sansa paused, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you as children, and again earlier.”

“Thank you.. But you’re not the  _ only  _ one who should apologise,” Arya conceded, “I should not have been so short with you earlier, I should have allowed you to say your piece.”

“Thank you sister,” Sansa replied, “I never meant that your having a thing for bastards as a bad thing, I just.. You were always so close to Jon, and I treated him terribly, he accepted my apology for that though, I guess we’re all different people now.”

“Of course we are,” Arya chuckled lightly, “I mean, who’d have thought I’d be married with a babe on the way.”

She reached to take a sip of the honey milk her sister had provided, when what Sansa had said sunk in.

“J-Jon?” Arya asked, her voice quiet, her brow furrowed. 

Sansa sipped her wine, her eyes meeting Arya’s, “Yes, he was here.”

“What?” Arya frowned, “Wh-why didn’t anyone say anything?”

“I was going to earlier, but I upset you.” Sansa reached for her hand, “He will be back.”

“When?” she asked, wide eyed.

“I’m not sure, he’s been gone near 2 moons, I’m hoping soon.” Sansa tried to reassure her.

“Jon’s alive,” Arya whispered, she almost felt as though her entire body had turned to a liquid.

“Lift yer elbow,” Anguy instructed a lad in the practice yard.

“And tuck it in,” Arya called down from the bridge her parents used to watch the boys practice from.

The lad and Anguy both turned to look up at her, “Thank you for the help, M’lady.” the boy blushed to the roots of his brown hair.

“Thought you said I could teach the archery,” Anguy called out to her.

“I’m allowing you to teach, Archer.” she cocked an eyebrow.

Anguy shook his head before turning back to the teaching.

“Lady Stark,” a sly voice came from behind her.

She held her body, trying not to react bar laying a hand on Needle. 

“You look as much like your father as your sister does your mother.” the man observed.

“Is that so.” she responded coolly, her eyes never straying from Anguy and the young boy.

“You’re not accounting for the snow.” Arya called down to them.

“Why thank you, I’d neva ‘ave thought of that one.” Anguy mock bowed towards her.

“Oh do piss off!” she laughed.

“Well you haven’t changed since you were a child have you?” the man responded.

Arya turned her head slightly to look at him, a sly smirk on his face. Arya felt her skin crawl as she took him in.

“Did you want something Lord Baelish?” she asked.

“Oh, just thought I would take a turn around the castle.” he seemed to move towards her.

“Well, I have an engagement I must get to,” she turned to move away from him, “enjoy your.. Walk.”

Arya heard him snort or gasp as she moved away from the bannister, “I take it back, it seems you have changed some.”

She rolled her eyes as she continued to walk away from him. 

It was a few days after the run in with Lord Baelish that she found herself being pulled towards the Wolfswood. The Hunter’s Gate was locked and there were no guards around, Arya waited, watching the gate. There was something outside the gate, something that she needed to get to. The babe stirred in her stomach, “I know my love, I don’t know what’s happening either,” she soothed, rubbing her stomach. 

She tore her eyes away from the gate when she heard footsteps approaching from the direction of the castle. She noticed two guards approaching, they startled slightly on seeing her perched upon an old tree stump.

The older of the two men whispered something to the younger one, who turned and headed back towards the castle.

“Lady Arya,” the man said cautiously as he approached her. 

“Hello Ser,” she responded.

“Oh I’m no Ser.” the man rushed out.

“No, but I do not know your name.” she gave him a small smile.

“Georgie M’lady.” the man nodded.

“Georgie, it’s nice to meet you.” she nodded towards him.

“Well now, what are you doin’ out ‘ere alone now?” he asked.

Arya’s eyes went back to the gate, “Do you have the keys?” she asked.

“K-key?” he frowned, “Oh, M’lady, you don’ wanna be goin’ out into the Wolfswood, the wolves ‘ave been prowling closer lately.”

“I’m a Stark Georgie, I’m not scared of wolves.” she replied. 

“Well now, that might be so M’lady,” Georgie responded, “but maybe we should be more cautious, now with the babe.”

Arya studied Georgie momentarily, she wanted to argue with him that she would never risk the babe, but she could see that he meant well.

“Okay,” Arya nodded, making a move to stand.

“Arry!” Gendry came running towards her.

She was almost in awe of the way that he already moved over the snow. 

“What?” she asked, reaching out to stop him. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his left hand resting gently against the back of her neck, his right hand running over her stomach.

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, tilting her face up to meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he laughed softly, but she could see concern in his clear blue  eyes.

“Something pulled me here,” she chewed at her lower lip, before turning towards the Hunters Gate, “something wants me to go out there.”

“Ar,” he said gently, “what’s out there?”

“Georgie says there’s wolves.” she looked longingly towards the gate, thinking of the woods beyond it.

“Are you thinking your wolf is out there?” Gendry asked gently.

She turned back to face him, her grey eyes scanning his face, “Yes,” she whispered.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a little while, life is a bit hectic and draining right now, we're into lock down 3 and my motivation to write has been so low.

“Arya,” Gendry shook her shoulder gently.

She blinked a few times, the sun was still up, but the sky was beginning to darken, she blinked a few more times and struggled to sit up.

“What?” she grumbled.

“Your sister says we need to come to her solar, as soon as possible.” he responded. 

“So that’s why you're half naked?” she cocked an eyebrow.

“I’ve been in the forge,” he snorted, “thought I’d best clean up a little.”

“Hm, sure,” she said lazily. 

“I’ll be a few moments, just let me get a shirt.” he responded, walking away from her.

“Did she say what was so urgent?” Arya asked as they walked through the halls, hand-in-hand.

“No,” he replied, “just that it was urgent.”

“It betta be serious, ‘M too tired for this.” she complained. 

“Know the feeling, my love,” he squeezed her hand.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t been spending every waking minute in the forge these past few weeks.” she complained in jest, knowing that Gendry was at peace in the forge.

“I’ve been busy.” he gave her a bashful smile.

“Tell me what you’re making?” she asked, pulling him to a stop.

“Hm,” he hummed, looking down at her, “it’s a surprise.” 

“But I don’t like surprises!” she pouted dramatically. 

Gendry laughed before pressing his lips softly against hers, “You’ll have to wait until it’s ready.” he whispered into her ear. 

“Not fair!” she sighed.

“Life isn’t, M’lady.” he teased against her neck.   


“Arya!” Sansa scolded from behind them,  the two of them springing apart like a pair of teenage lovers being caught together when they should not be.

“What?” she turned irritably towards her sister. 

“I sent word for you to come as soon as possible,” Sansa complained, “and here you are in the hallway..” she made a motion towards her and Gendry.

“What?” she frowned, “We were on our way!”

Sansa just stared at her in disbelief. 

“It’s the babe,” she pulled a face.

Sansa rolled her eyes and shook her head, heading back towards her solar, Arya tugging Gendry after her.

“Why are we here?” Arya asked after settling into a chair beside the fire, Gendry coming to stand behind her.

“Have some patience.” Sansa sighed.

“She has none.” Gendry squeezed her shoulder gently. 

“Shut up,” she chuckled, tilting her head back towards him, until a knock at the door caused her head to whip back down. 

“Come in,” Sansa called out.

The door opened and Arya saw an impossibly tall woman step into the room. 

Her blonde hair was straw like, her nose was crooked and freckles dusted her face. Arya noticed that she wore men's clothing, and that she was incredibly muscular. Her size and build was near that of Gendry’s.

“My Lady,” she bowed before Sansa.

“Lady Brienne,” Sansa greeted the woman, “I’m glad to see you.”

_ Lady,  _ Arya thought almost in wonder, as she noticed that the door was still open.

Sansa looked almost eagerly towards the door, Arya frowned in confusion.

“In!” she heard another female voice order.

Brienne’s eyes drifted to where Arya was sitting, she scanned her slightly, almost as though she was assessing her size and strength, then her eyes drifted upwards, landing on Gendry and she stepped backwards, as though she had seen a ghost.

“Wh-what?” Gendry practically whispered.

“I- I’m sorry,” the woman blinked, “I- you just look like someone.”

“I get that a lot.” he said quietly.

“Gen,” she responded trying to soothe him.

“It’s fine,” he smiled at her.

“Now, get in there!” the same voice sounded once more.

“Why?” another voice grunted.

“Listen to me,” the woman said, “they’re your family.”

Arya tensed. 

“ _ You’re _ my family.” the second voice responded, it was a male voice, but not particularly deep.

“Yes,” the woman answered, “but so are they. If you won’t do it for them, or for you, do it for me.”

Arya looked at Sansa, confusion twisting her features, her sister looked uneasy herself.

“Sansa, what’s going on?” she whispered, she had not meant to whisper, but it was all the volume that she could muster.

Moments later a gangly child with auburn hair came tumbling into the room, almost as though he’d been shoved into the room.

The boy stood up tall, he wasn’t as tall as Sansa, but for sure he would tower over her.

Arya pushed her body out of the chair and stepped towards the boy.

“Rickon?” she asked, quietly. 

He studied her intently, his cornflower blue eyes looked uncertain as they took in her Stark grey eyes and long face. Some level of recognition sparked in his eyes and he took a step towards her, “Ar-Arya,” he said, reaching one hand out towards her.

A huge smile broke out across her face, “Rick, I’m so sorry.” she sniffed, tears beginning to leak out of her eyes as she held her arms out for him.

“For what?” he said quietly. 

“I left you.” she sniffled. 

“You never had a choice, Arya.” he reassured her. 

“Oi now, y’do know you have two sisters in this room, don’t you!” the woman called from behind them. 

Rickon stepped away, almost blushing, his eyes drifting to Sansa. 

Arya used the moment to study the woman who Rickon had come in with. She was tall and lean, with shaggy brown hair and furs. Her hands were scarred, and a burn marked her neck below her left ear. The woman had hard features and Arya knew she was a tough woman, yet her little brother had appeared to be comfortable around her, so she must have something to her.

That evening Sansa had ordered a family dinner in her solar; Arya, Gendry, the Blackfish, Lady Brienne, Rickon and the wildling woman he had come home with were all to attend.

“You’re late,” Sansa raised a perfect eyebrow as she and Gendry walked into the room.

Arya scowled, peering around the room, only Sansa and the wildling woman were there, “How are _we_ late?” she asked.

“I wanted to talk to you and Osha before everyone else arrived.” Sansa responded, sounding frustrated. 

“Oh, I.. I’ll um..” Gendry started backing off towards the door.

Arya chewed at her lower lip, glancing at Gendry. 

“You should go see Rickon,” Sansa smiled at Gendry, “you never really had the chance to meet him earlier, he should be waiting for you in the training yard.”

“O-okay.” he responded, dipping his head towards Sansa.

Arya sighed at the way he still felt the need to lessen himself to her family, “I just, one minute, okay?” she said to Sansa before tugging Gendry into the hall.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once they were alone.

“Gendry,” she said softly, reaching up to lay her hands on his cheeks, “I love you.”

“I know,” he laughed softly, his hands travelling to hold her hips, “and I love you.”

“But..” her grey eyes searched his blue ones, “you need to stop thinking you’re not  worthy of me, stop thinking you need to bow to my family whilst we’re alone.”

“I can’t help it.” he replied.

“I know, but it kills me.” she frowned.

Gendry closed his eyes and lowered his head towards hers, pressing his forehead gently to hers, “I will try, for you. But I cannot make any promises.” 

Arya laughed gently before lightly brushing her lips against his, “Now go find my brother, and do not bow to him, he’ll eat your guts, he’s basically a wildling.” 

“What was that about?” Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya as she returned to the room.

“Nothing to concern you,” Arya answered sweetly, making her way to a chair by the hearth. 

“Your sister thought I should talk with the two o’ you about Rickon, Milady.” the wildling said taking the furthest seat from the fire, Arya internally cringed at the weakness she was showing by placing herself near the fire.

“Osha wasn’t it?” Arya asked, in a cool tone.

“Yes Milady.” the wildling woman responded.

Arya studied her closely, before giving her a wolfish grin, “Do not mistake me for a Lady, Osha.” 

Arya watched Osha’s dark eyes travel from her face down her body.

Arya cocked an eyebrow challenging the woman to argue, then her eyes fell on the daggers sheathed in Arya’s boots, a smile of understanding taking over her hard face.

“You’re a spearwife.” Osha observed. 

“A word for you,” Sansa announced dramatically, taking a seat, “at last!” 

“What’s a spearwife?” Arya asked cautiously.

“A female warrior.” Osha responded, “You certainly have the look.”

“She’s probably the most fearsome woman I know.” Sansa sipped at her wine.

A frown pulled at Arya’s brows before she looked towards her sister, “You mean that? And not in spite?”

“Of course,” Sansa set her glass on a side table, “I said I was sorry, I did mean it, I’m not the same person I was.”

“Thank you,” she almost whispered in response. 

Sansa reached out to take her hands into her own, before turning to Osha, “I am sorry, we’ve hardly had time to catch up ourselves.” 

“Now, tell us about Rickon.” Sansa said when she finally released Arya’s hands.

“Are you sure your parents didn’t steal him from a wildling?” Osha asked, a hint of humour evident in his eyes.

The sisters both laughed in response, Rickon was hardly more than a babe when they had left for King’s Landing, and even then he was wild.

“He’s a playful lad, easy to entertain, however, he’s stubborn and quick to anger.” Osha explained.

“Sounds like he’s Arya Stark’s brother.” Sansa teased.

“Not funny.” Arya muttered.

“We went to Skagos,” Osha responded, “the old man, Luwin, told us we had to split the boys up, I took the lad to Skagos. It’s a tough place, bitter and cold, but we’re of the North, we made do. All that mattered was he was safe.”

“Why would you do that?” Arya asked, her voice catching in her chest, “You could hardly have known him.”

“No, but I knew he was innocent, he deserved the chance to live.” she explained. 

“Were you there all this time?” Sansa asked.

“For years,” Osha shrugged, “the livin’ was hard. I fished, sold what I could, we just survived. But a few years ago, a man turned up, from the South.”

Alarm bells began to ring in Arya’s head.

“He was a plain man, man of the sea it was clear, beyond that I didn’t know a thing about him. But he told me he was sent for Rickon, that he meant the boy no harm. I couldn’t trust it though, I wouldn’t let Rickon go, so we fled in the night.” Osha continued. 

“Thank you for keeping him safe.” Arya responded solemnly. 

“Yes, thank you Osha,” Sansa added, “you shall always have a place at our hearth.” 

Osha studied Sansa, Arya did not think she trusted her entirely.

“We’ll need another spearwife around here.” Arya cocked an eyebrow.

“Aye,” Osha smiled, “that you might.”


	23. Chapter 23

Gendry sat pouring over a sheet of parchment, practising his letters, Arya was by the fire, a book resting on her swollen stomach. He noticed her face twitch and her eyes flicker white.

“Arya?” he said, scrambling to his feet, rushing towards his wife, she gasped as he reached her, lurching forward in her chair with enough force to knock the book to the ground.

“The gates.” she almost whispered, pulling herself out of the chair, heading towards the door.

“Arya?” he called.

She kept moving towards the door, Gendry noticed that she had not even paused to pick up a cloak.

“Shit!” he muttered, grabbing both of their cloaks and following after her.

“Arya, where are you going?” he asked.

“The gates.” she repeated, louder this time.

“You haven’t even got a cloak on.” he frowned, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her so that he could tie her cloak around her shoulders. 

She glanced up at him, her pupils looked askew, she did not look quite right, “Now I have.”

“Now you have.” he sighed softly, shaking his head before sliding his hand into hers, “C’mon then.”

He allowed his wife to almost pull him to the front gates of Winterfell.

“Lady Stark, what are you doin’?” a guard asked. 

“Open the gate.” she made it sound like a suggestion.

“There’s wolves out there M’Lady,” a second guard warned.

“Exactly.” a voice came from behind, Gendry turned to watch Rickon Stark stalking towards them. 

The young boy met his eyes, the corner of his lip curling up signalling to Gendry that this was what he had spoken to him about a few days ago.

“Open the gates.” Arya repeated, but this time it was an order.

The guards looked to Gendry, then to Rickon Stark, before going back to Arya. They were reluctant to listen to a woman, a child Lord or a blacksmith.

“Do not make me ask again.” Arya almost growled.

The one guard continued to fix them with a hard look, but one glance at his wife showed that she was firing daggers back at them with her eyes. 

However, the second guard was moving to open the gates.

The gates peeled open, and two wolves slowly sauntered into the courtyard. 

Gendry watched as the two of them looked around the walls, taking in the people around them, almost as though they were assessing the threat. 

The wolf at the front was the larger of the two. It’s fur was grey and it’s eyes yellow. Gendry had never seen a real wolf close up, but this one was far larger than he had ever imagined. The second wolf was smaller, but still far larger than Gendry would have thought. This one was as dark as coal, with bright green eyes. The wolves halted their movement, the grey wolf peered back towards the black one, the black wolf sunk down onto its forelegs, the grey wolf looked back towards them. The wolf looked at Arya with a sheen in its eyes, before cocking its head at Gendry.

Gendry’s eyes moved to his wife, her jaw was hanging open ever so lightly, almost as though she was about to say something. Behind him he heard Rickon move, Arya held her hand out to her brother, Gendry watched the boy take her hand, the two of them standing side-by-side.

“C’mon,” Arya said gently, before she and her brother took a step forward towards the two wolves.

Gendry watched as his wife and child, and his good-brother moved towards two giant wolves, however, he also knew that being a Stark Arya was connected to wolves. 

The grey wolf lifted its head to look at Arya.

“Nymeria..” she exhaled. 

Realisation dawned on Gendry, the wolf was not just a wolf, it was Arya’s wolf.

The wolf dipped down onto her front paws, just as the dark wolf had.

Arya dropped her brother's hand, “Nymeria,” she repeated, more sure this time, before dropping down to her knees before the wolf.

“Shaggy!” Rickon grinned, moving towards the darker wolf, “You found her!”

Gendry watched the siblings with the two wolves, the guards still looked nervous, especially as Nymeria creeped closer towards Arya and began to nuzzle her snout against Arya’s body. Gendry felt a little tense, but unafraid. He’d heard Arya talk about the connection to her wolf numerous times before.

“Gen,” she called, looking over her shoulder, grinning up at him.

Slowly he edged towards Arya and her wolf. Rickon’s wolf snapped his head up at his advance, baring his teeth at him, Gendry held his hands out, open in front of him to say he was no threat.

“Bad Shaggy!” Rickon chastised the wolf. 

“Ar,” he said softly, sinking down beside his wife and her wolf,  _ would anything about this woman ever not surprise him! _

Arya reached out for his hand, lacing her fingers between his, her hand on top of his, then she moved their hands down slowly towards the wolf's head.

“Hey girl,” she said softly, love shining through her voice, “this is Gendry, my mate.”

_ Mate, _ the word had some deeper connotation, it was more than just husband, it made him feel like he was truly hers. He belonged to her. Of course he did, he always had been Arya's.  


Arya curled her fingers over his, and Gendry gently laced his fingers into Nymeria’s fur.

“Hi girl,” he smiled at the wolf.

The wolf moved her head slightly, almost as though she was pressing her head into his hand.

“She likes you,” Arya said gently.

“How can you tell?” he laughed nervously.

“She hasn’t eaten you has she?” Arya gently nudged him with her shoulder. 

“Not yet,” he laughed, with more confidence.

“Also, we’re connected,” Arya said softly, “she would never hurt you.”

The wolf whined gently, almost as though she was complaining that she wasn’t getting enough attention. 

Gendry laughed, turning his attention back to Nymeria, his heart melting at this giant wolf acting like a tiny puppy.   


“What do we do?” Gendry heard one of the guards asking one of the others.

“Get Lady Sansa?” the second suggested.

Gendry frowned, looking up towards the two men, their hands on their swords.

“You do nothing,” Gendry said, standing from his place on the floor, “they’re Stark’s, the wolves won’t hurt them.” 

“Don’t think it’s us they’re concerned about,” Rickon laughed, rising to his own feet, moving to come and stand next to him, as Arya pulled the giant grey wolf towards her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to get some writing done!! I've only written a few paragraphs in weeks. Just don't have the time or energy for anything at the moment, lock down 3 is completely killing me.


	24. Chapter 24

Gendry had been told that when a woman’s time came, the entire town would know it. But the people who had told him that had never met his wife. Loud when she wanted to be, but agonisingly quiet when that is what she wanted. Therefore he was not all that surprised to wake up in the early hours to an empty bed and a silent wife bracing herself against a chair across the room.

“Ar?” he untangled his limbs from the bedding, dashing across the room.

“I’m fine.” she responded, quietly.

“Arya, you’re having a babe,” he responded, his hands reassuringly resting on her shoulders.

“But you needn’t get up.” she replied. 

“You’re kidding me?” he snorted.

“Please Gendry.” she groaned.

“Arya, I’m your husband, I have every right to be up with you!” he argued softly. 

“I would have woken you when it was time.” she shook her head. 

“You can’t make a decision like that,” he protested, "we’re meant to be a team.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like what?” he frowned, “Practically forcing the pain away because you’re too strong to cry or some bullshit?”

“Or some bullshit.” she groaned.

Gendry frowned, the groan seemed more pained than the small noises she’d been previously making, “I’m sending for the Maester.” 

“No, wait,” she grasped his forearm, “not yet.”

“Arya,” he sighed, gently cupping her cheek in his large, calloused hand, “I know you think it’s not time yet, but I just want him to check that you’re alright.” 

The sky was starting to lighten when Arya finally allowed him to summon the maester. He helped her back to the bed, Nymeria immediately darted into the room the moment Gendry opened the door of their bedchamber. He walked through the solar and flagged down a serving girl, telling her to fetch the maester immediately. When he returned to the room Arya’s face was scrunched up, her eyes closed tight and Nymeria’s head rested on the bed beside her. He noticed her fingers woven through the wolf’s fur and wondered how she wasn’t hurting her as he rushed to her side.

“Arry,” he grasped her free hand, immediately she squeezed it tight, soothing Nymeria's neck with his other hand.  


Her face relaxed seconds later and Nymeria nudged him with her nose, as though to tell him something. He looked at the direwolf with interest, trying to interpret her meaning, but all he drew was blanks.

The wolf looked at him in almost despair, he honestly thought he saw the wolf roll her eyes as she rose from her place at the foot of the bed and made her way to the bedchamber door.

“You want to go out?” Gendry asked.

Nymeria cocked her head in agreement.

“Fucks sake,” he muttered to himself as he made his way to the door, “I’m having a conversation with an animal.”

As the wolf dashed out of the solar, the Maester made his way in.

“She’s labouring?” he asked. 

“I uh..” he hesitated, “I guess.”

Gendry didn’t wait for a response before darting back into the bedchamber and to Arya’s side.

“The maester’s here, my love.” he said gently before pressing his lips lightly against her cheek.

“Arya,” Maester Luwin said her name in a calming tone, “I’ll need to examine you.”

“Get this creature out of me,” she responded, almost in frustration, yanking at her nightgown.

“I’m afraid that babe’s make their own minds up my dear,” he responded, brushing a hand over her stomach.

Arya’s face screwed up once more, Gendry could see her jaw clenched tightly and felt her vice like grip on his hand.

“Although,” the Maester rose from his position between Arya’s legs, “I believe this one will be here before midday.”

“Midday?” Arya grunted, looking at the muted light coming in through the window, realising that midday was still a long way off.

Their bedchamber door burst open, Sansa practically marched into the room, followed by several maids carrying blankets and water, flanked by the two direwolves. 

“Sansa?” Arya frowned.

“You could have sent someone to wake me.” she chastised.

“She barely allowed me to send for the Maester.” Gendry responded casually. 

“Well I had to be woken by Rickon and 2 direwolves!” Sansa replied, “How on earth did Rickon know?”

“Nymeria.” Arya responded flatly.

“She’s here,” Gendry reassured her.

“No,” she shook her head slightly, “fuckkk.” The groans were beginning to grow in volume now, “Nymeria told Rickon.”

“Arya!” Sansa tutted. 

“Shh now,” Gendry replied, slicking Arya’s hair back from her forehead.

More hours passed, Arya groaned and squeezed at his hands with such a force that it was any wonder she hadn’t snapped a bone yet, the sky outside was light now, day had broken.

“Gendry,” the Maester said, “you may want to leave the room now.”

“What? Why?” he asked, panic strangling his voice.

“Men do not usually stay for the birthing.” the Maester informed him.

“I’ve not left so far, what makes you think I’d leave her now?” he frowned.   
“It was only a warning, I did not expect that you would leave.” the maester shrugged.

“Never,” Gendry responded, running his thumb lightly along Arya’s jaw.

Although the Maester seemed to be saying that the babe would shortly be with them, it felt like Arya laboured for several more days. At most it was probably another 2 hours, but hearing the agonising moans escaping his wife made time all but lose meaning.

“Arya,” Sansa said softly, “Mother would be so proud of you right now, you’re doing amazing.”

“Now’s not the time to kiss my arse Sansa!” Arya snapped.  


“Ar,” Gendry kissed her cheek, as the maester made his way to examine her.

“Arya,” Maester Luwin said from the bottom of the bed, “at the next contraction, you need to push.”


	25. Chapter 25

“He’s perfect,” Gendry gasped, sounding as though he’d ran from Winter Town.

“Looks just like you.” she smiled up at him, as the babe took the two of them in with his bright blue eyes.

“Are you saying I’m perfect, Arya Stark?” Gendry teased.

“I’m too tired to argue.” she laughed softly. 

“I love you,” Gendry said, wrapping his arms around the two of them, “both of you.”

“You’d better.” she murmured, pressing her face into his chest.

“What should we name him?” Gendry kissed her forehead.

“Think you should decide,” she answered, yawning. 

“Ned,” Gendry grinned, answering almost immediately, “he looks like me, but he needs a Stark name.” 

“Really?” she couldn’t help but smile.

“I think it’s perfect.” he beamed.

Arya gazed down at the boy, love radiating throughout her, “What do you think baba?” she cooed, “Ned Stark?”

The babe gurgled, reaching up towards her.

“I think that’s a yes,” Gendry cupped the boy's face.

A knock at the door tore their gaze away from their son. 

“Come in,” Gendry called out, reluctantly looking away from the two people who had become his entire universe.

The door flew open and Rickon came charging in with Nymeria and Shaggy on his heels. 

“Sansa said the baby is here!” Rickon said in an excited tone, bounding towards the bed.

“He is, but keep the volume down, you’ll scare him.” Arya replied, “Do you want to hold him?”

“I’ll break him!” Rickon almost squeaked, recoiling backwards. 

Arya laughed in response, “You’ll be fine, come sit next to me.”

Rickon looked at her nervously.

“Come on mate,” Gendry smiled at him, “besides, I need you to watch these two for me, I need to grab something from the forge.”

Arya looked up at Gendry as he rose from the bed, a feeling of almost panic surging through her body.

Gendry must have noticed, “I won’t be long,” he lent down to press a to her cheek, before pressing a second one to the crown of Ned’s head, the wolves darting from the room with her husband.

“He doesn’t look like you.” Rickon frowned down at the boy now nestled into his arms.

“And you don’t look like dad,” Arya responded playfully, nudging him gently with her shoulder.

“I miss them Arya.” Rickon responded in a small voice.

“Me too Rick,” she draped an arm around his shoulders, “but we have some of our pack back here.”

“It was only me and Osha for so long.” he replied, his voice sounding strained.

“At times it was just Gendry and I,” she replied, “we forged our own family, even before Ned. Family is what you make of it Rick, it’s not just blood.”

“Osha’s been my mum longer than mum even was.” Rickon shrugged, but he looked pained.

“Mum and dad would just be happy that we’re here, together.” Arya smiled at him.

“D’you think mum would hate me,” Rickon almost gasped, “seein’ Osha being like my mum?”

“No Rick, no!” she said firmly, draping an arm around her youngest brother’s shoulder, “We all did what we had to survive.” 

“I hope Ned don’t have to go through what we did.” Rickon pursed his lips.

It sent a jolt of panic surging through Arya’s stomach, her heart almost felt as though it were trapped in the vice from Gendry’s forge. A battle raged within her; angst and pain raced for control within her veins. She clamped her eyes closed tightly, trying to prevent any tears from escaping her eyes. Something that she failed at as she felt a fat tear trickle out of the corner of her right eye, dripping down the side of her nose.

At last she spoke, her voice small and shaky, “I only wish that I could give Ned the life he deserves. Mayhaps I was selfish to even give him life in this world.”

“Arya?” Rickon frowned up at her, Ned began to fuss in his arms.

“Here,” she said softly, holding her arms out for her son.

She gently brushed her fingers over Ned’s dark hair, giving her time to consider her words.

“I wish I could say that he’s going to have a peaceful life. But, we have at least two wars, right on our doorstep. And even if we survive both of those-” she sighed, shaking her head.

“You’re not gonna let me fight are ya?” Rickon asked, grasping her arm, “In the wars?”

Arya chuckled lightly, “Like I’d be one to stop you. But Sansa’s not likely to let you fight.”

“Nor you!” Rickon pointed out.

“Rickon, I’m a woman grown, married, a mother. Sansa’s got no claim over me.” Arya argued.

“She’s the Lady of Winterfell.” he immediately retorted. 

“Do you remember me listening to Mother much?” Arya challenged, cocking an eyebrow at her brother. 

“No.” Rickon laughed, it was a real laugh, enough to thaw out some of the ice that had crept through her veins.

“I don’t want you to fight in the wars Rickon,” she said seriously, “but I can’t stop you.”

Rickon looked to her, she could feel him studying her, the scrutiny grew too much, so she averted her gaze to her boy. Taking the time to study the planes of his face, the perfectly pouting lips to the little button nose.

“Instead of fighting,” Rickon said at last, “if I had my weapons, I could protect Ned and Sansa, wherever we’re putin’ them.”

Arya’s head snapped up, she felt her brows pull together in confusion, wondering why the boy was even thinking on this. 

A smile chased away her confusion, smoothing her brow flat, “I think that would be a good job for you, Rick.”

“Sorry it took so long!” Gendry sounded out of breath as he backed into the room.

“You travel to the wall and back or something?” She teased.

“Or somethin’.” he chuckled, holding the door open for Nymeria and Shaggy to slink back into the room.

The wolves crossed to the bed, regarding the occupants carefully before settling down on their haunches to watch them. 

“What’s that?” Arya asked, her curiosity piqued. 

Gendry moved further into the room, carrying something obscured by furs.

“Sorry, everybody was stoppin’ me, askin’ about the babe.” Gendry beamed at her.

“Yeah,” she said, uninterested in everyone else, “what’s that though?”

“Patience.” Gendry crossed over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, “I promised we’d wait for Sansa.” 

“I’ll go see where she is.” Rickon jumped from the bed, making his way to the door.

“You okay?” Gendry asked, leaning in to brush his nose against hers.

“Yeah.” she nodded. 

“You sure?” he frowned, “You seem quiet.” 

“Just.. feeling a lot right now.” she tried to give him a reassuring smile.

“You’re probably tired too, I shoulda thought.” he scolded himself, “I’ll send ‘em both away.”

“After I get to see what’s under the furs though, right?” she asked.

“Of course, love.” he laughed, taking her free hand in between his.


	26. Chapter 26

“I still can’t believe you made this,” Arya said, running her hand over the metal bars of their son's crib, her eyes taking in the direwolves sculpted into the headboard. 

“I still can’t believe we made this,” Gendry motioned towards Ned snoozing in his crib, pressing a light kiss to the back of her neck.

“You’ve been saying that every day for the past month.” she chuckled, tilting her head upwards, catching his bright blue eyes which were brimming with love. Arya lost herself in her husband’s gaze, she felt entirely at peace, until a knock at the door disrupted their small bubble. 

“Come in,” she called back.

“There’s riders!” Rickon rushed out the moment he set foot through the door.

“There are always riders, Rick.” she rolled her eyes, and indeed, there were constantly riders arriving, there was a war building after all. 

“They’re comin’ from the North.” Rickon responded, “Sansa wants us all out front.”

Rickon moved towards the door.

“Wait,” Gendry froze, a deep furrow at his brow, “are they friend or foe?”

Rickon shrugged.

“Well, are we bringing Ned, or are you staying here to watch him with that sword Gendry made you?” Arya challenged. 

“Sansa doesn’t seem worried.” Rickon replied, dashing for the door. 

“Guess we’re taking Ned.” Gendry responded, bending down to pick the babe up from the crib.

“Just keep back with him, just in case.” Arya warned, handing Ned over to a maid, “And you stay with them. Any trouble and lock yourself away.” she added to Rickon.

“I know.” he rolled his eyes.

“Less attitude, just do it.” she clipped him lightly across the back of his head.

“Yes mother.” he responded mockingly. 

Arya huffed and rolled her eyes before heading towards Sansa.

“You _are_ sounding like mother.” Sansa retorted as Arya came to stand beside her. 

“Shut up, or I’ll give you the same treatment as him.” Arya scowled.

“There’s 4 riders, and a slay.” a guard announced.

“How many on the slay?” Sansa asked.

“At least 3.” the guard responded.

“Do they have any banners?” Arya questioned.

“Not that I see. Most are dressed darkly.” another guard replied.

“Could be the Night's Watch?” Arya observed to Sansa.

“There’s a woman on the sleigh.” a guard called out.

“Why would there be a woman with the Night’s Watch?” Gendry asked, turning backwards as Ned woke up and began fussing in the maids arms.

Gendry shared a look with her before making his way to take Ned.

“Arya,” Sansa gasped quietly.

Arya’s head snapped towards her sister, Rickon shifting to her side.

“Bran.” Arya said almost breathlessly, gazing towards the sleigh. 

Sansa grasped at her arm, her nails digging into her arms, even through her furs.

“Sans,” Arya growled.

“Sorry.” Sansa responded, reaching out towards Rickon.

Arya shifted, moving their younger brother to stand between them.

The three of them stood still, almost holding in a collected breath as the sleigh came to a stop in the courtyard of Winterfell.

Indeed the men on horses were men of the Night’s Watch, 5 of them in total. 4-a-horse and one driving the sleigh. A woman in brown furs with tangled brown hair and mossy green eyes jumped from the sleigh’s seat, moving to the rear section.

“Edd Tollett, M’Lady.” a thin greying man bowed before her sister, “The Lord Commander sends his apologies, had business in the Storm Lands.”

“What’s the Storm Lands got to do with the Nights Watch?” Arya asked under her breath.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sister.” a voice came from beside the sleigh. 

“B-bran?” she stepped forward, Rickon’s hand pulling at the sleeve of her dress.

Arya’s slate eyes met Bran’s blue ones, a hint of mischief twinkled in them momentarily before they faded to a blankness. It was almost like the life had drained from him.

“Bran,” Arya heard the green eyed woman say quietly, bending down to say something quietly into his ear.

Arya took the opportunity to take stock of the woman. She was short and slim, a little taller than Arya, a little older. She looked muscled, but also underfed. Arya could see the sunkenness of her features, the dark shadows rimming her mossy eyes. Her breeches and jerkin were worn, and her cloak looked like it had once belonged to another. Her weapons were worn on her back, a net, a three-pronged spear and a battered bronze shield.

“My sister seems to be sizesing you up to spar.” Bran said in a flat tone to the young woman, but a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

Arya rolled her eyes, “Well no one else around her will spar with me.” 

“One day,” the woman smiled at her. Her smile was easy-going and cheery, it made her feel at ease.

“I know her,” Rickon stepped out from behind Arya.

“Hello Rickon.” she smiled at him.

“Where’s yer brother an’ Hodor?” Rickon asked.

A look of sadness clouded her face, “They- They didn’t live.”

“Oh,” Rickon said sorrowfully, “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay.” the woman replied quietly.

“Let’s go inside.” Bran replied in a reassuring tone, “I want to meet my nephew.” 

Arya froze, staring at her brother in confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this came to me in a dream, then I got sucked in and started neglecting my 3 other WIPs.. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Some of this has elements from the show, but mostly the books. Then there are obviously great big parts that I have totally fabricated. 
> 
> Please be kind to me when it comes to things such as timings, I'm just guessing at how long things take, which seems to translate to 'about a week' in most instances!


End file.
